After I had breast cancer treatment in 2015 and 2016, my resilience was at an all time low. Chemotherapy works by killing all the fast growing cells in your body - because cancer grows at speed - but once I’d finished that part of my treatment, I was pretty sure the things that made able to bounce back from set backs must have been fast growing cells too. Because I had zero. Nothing. The armour I had developed over the years which meant I was only slightly winded when something smacked me in the chest had eroded and decayed around me, gathering around my feet like iron filings. I wrote about just how broken I felt in a book that, ironically, in retrospect, I wasn’t mentally well enough to write. Things that would previously only have felt like minor inconveniences could reduce me to tears. The big moments began to feel insurmountable. If my resilience was a vat of water, my cup, which hadn’t overfloweth to begin with, was bone dry. I was wrung out.
And there’s no wonder really. Between July 2015 and the end of 2019, I had a mastectomy, three follow-up surgeries resulting in my implant being removed, fertility preservation treatment, chemo, radiotherapy, and then another five surgeries to reconstruct my breast and try and fix the cosmetic damage that cancer had left behind. My body was a mess, my brain was a mess, my emotions were a cacophony of confusion. I’d totally lost sight of who I was, what I was doing and my place in the world. So how on earth was I going to have the capacity to cope with stress?
Resilience is ‘the ability to withstand adversity and bounce back from difficult life events’. It’s our ability to bounce back after disruption and to adapt to whatever’s thrown at us. In 2019, I could barely manage the day to day, late alone disruption. But over time, and, tbh with quite a bit of therapy, I gradually started building my resilience back up.
As part of my therapy, I worked through a something called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (aka ACT). The basic concept of ACT is to stop avoiding and struggling with emotions, to stop layering on additional stories about them (like I feel sad, I’m such a loser for feeling sad, or I shouldn’t feel sad, I’m so lucky to be in this position) and learn to accept them and move forward with them. I carried so much guilt around getting cancer and making it through treatment when so many people I knew had died or were continuing to live with the disease or go through gruelling treatments. I felt like I didn’t have the right to complain. But every time I told myself these extra stories about my experiences, I was minimising them and not accepting what had happened to me. Gradually, acceptance allowed me to start to refill my resilience glass, a few drops at a time.
Connection too is another key way to rebuild and cultivate resilience. Relationships are so crucial for human beings. We’re inherently social and the time we spend with others is integral for growing our resilience. The more loved, valued and supported we feel by others, the better we’ll be able to cope with those curveballs that come our way. In 2019, not long after I finished my reconstructive surgeries, I went through what can only be described as the worst break-up of my life. Not with my husband (who I’ve been with since I was 17) but with one of my closest friends. I felt battered again. And I didn’t trust myself with the people around me. If someone that close to me could decide they didn’t want my friendship, then surely I didn’t deserve any connections?
But then I went to India. I went to climb some mountains with a bunch of strangers. I slept in a tent with people I’d never met before and I realised maybe the fall out wasn’t about me. And, without sounding like a prick (says every person about to sound like a prick), I learned to fall in love with having friends. And that bunch of loves are still my friends now. Those connections helped me realise it’s OK to be vulnerable, that we all need cheerleaders and that despite what seven years of working alone might have me telling myself, no (wo)man is an island. A few more drops added to the cup.
If you’ve ever spent any time with me, you’ll notice that I get hyped about the smallest things.
OMG LOOK AT THAT LEAF SHAPED LIKE A LOVEHEART.
SHIT THE BED DID YOU SEE THAT CLOUD? IT LOOKS LIKE MICHELLE VISAGE!
CHRIS! CHRIS! This pasta sauce - I COULD DIE!
Seriously. HAVE YOU TRIED CHEESE?!
I get hyped about big things too. But one of my superpowers is finding wonder in the smallest of places. Because I flicking love the world and all of it’s mad idiosyncrasies. Like - breathing. Have you ever thought about how absolutely wild that is? I know it’s ultra cliche to have a life-threatening illness and then be all “Jeez - Dad, pull over, let’s take a picture of the light, it’s beautiful” but I was a bit intense about that sort of stuff before I got cancer when I was 26. Now? Now I am all about savouring positive experiences. And the more we can do that? That blade of grass with morning dew? That’s another drop in the resilience cup. The joy you feel when you see your pal holding their hand over their mouth because they’re laughing so hard with a mouthful of pizza. Another drop. When that baby squeezes your finger. Another. Smashing a work presentation. Another. That dress you love. Another. Another. Another.
Arguably one of the biggest ways to add to the cup of resilience (how has this become the imagery for this newsletter?) is one of the hardest. For me, it’s a life’s work and I know it is for many of my coaching clients too. It’s self compassion. Why do we struggle so much with giving ourselves the kindnesses we give to others? Is it a permission thing? I wish I could wave a magic wand and give you the permission you need to be more compassionate towards yourself. Because when we are compassionate towards ourselves, when we treat ourselves kindly and fairly, we facilitate strength. When it comes to resilience, by caring for our pain, whatever challenge that may come in the form of, we minimise the harm that challenge may create. Some research (from Kristin Neff, self compassion thought leader) even tells us that some self compassion techniques can reduce stress hormones, like cortisol, and increase oxytocin, making us feel calmer and safer. SOUNDS GOOD RIGHT?! And like a reason for more self compassion if ever I heard one. We all need more calmness and safe-feelings in this wild world rn.
But that aside, the more we acknowledge our experiences with that loving kindness, the more likely we are to keep a growth mindset and learn through difficult experiences. The tap is switched on now. Forget drops. The cup is running over here. Self compassion facilitates psychological strength. Being kind to ya mind (and yourself) helps you grow and prepare for whatever comes next. Resilience overload.
I’ve been so curious about building my resilience over the last few years. I’m not at max capacity. Far from it. And it waxes and wanes. But I always know that I’ve these things to come back to when I need to top up my cup a little.
What helps you feel more resilient? And how have you dealt with the times your resilience was MIA? I’d love to hear.
Til soon
AMP x
PS - A little sell: I can run a resilience workshop for your organisation. Find out more here or drop me an email. Want coaching to help with your resilience? I can do that too.
Things I’m loving
'Mass killing' report in Chapel St Leonards was yoga class - made me lol though I know it shouldn’t
The Retrievals - a new podcast from the folks behind This American Life and Serial. I have many thoughts but many of them have the word f*ck in so probably won’t share them here. But up to 200 people? How this was allowed to continue for so long? A lot of thoughts about women’s pain and trauma.
Sophie Heawood’s Right Move Roundup - I’ll take the Amalfi apartment or John le Carre’s house in Cornwall.