03 Mar When Me First Has a Sting

Last week, my husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer, and he was informed that he would be seeing the oncologist today. I had two coaching sessions scheduled, one with a client I had never met before, and I was apprehensive about cancelling before we had an opportunity to connect.

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In the past, basically, until last week, if I’m being honest, my natural tendency has been to keep commitments at all costs, even at the expense of my well-being or that of a loved one.

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I’ve made choices like committing to being a bridesmaid in my friend’s wedding on the same day my mom died—decisions I later regretted because I prioritized others over myself and those closest to me.

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My core values—Love and Courage—this time lit the way.

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I had to make the difficult decision to say no to these sessions. To risk disappointing others or, even worse, being perceived as unreliable. I sent a heartfelt email to my clients, explaining that my husband had received difficult medical news and that I would be accompanying him to his oncology appointment on Monday and would need to reschedule our sessions.

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Shortly after, I received a notification from the coaching company that I contract for that one of the clients I needed to reschedule would no longer be working with me. Due to the platform we used, I had no way of reaching out, and he didn’t leave a message explaining his decision. That stung. My mind spun with stories—maybe I could have squeezed him in any way, we would be home in time, or we could have just postponed him by thirty minutes.

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I reminded myself of something my coach recently said: “As coaches, we partner with our clients, and we matter just as much as they do. Do we really want to work with someone who doesn’t respect our boundaries when we put our needs first to better serve them?”

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I don’t live by that often. This week, Rod got his MRI results showing he had a mass; we looked at the report in the 15 minutes I had in between clients, shed a few tears, and were both in a meeting a few minutes later.

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My session went very well, but it felt almost creepy to me how I could compartmentalize my own issues a bit too well.

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I told Rod today, as I also decided to bow out of leading a support group call for cancer patients that I facilitate tonight, I don’t want to flex that overused muscle of ‘others mattering more than me’ anymore.

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This life is infinitely precious, and I don’t know why that client decided to move on. I would have loved to know, but he chose not to be transparent, and the timing was poor if it had been another reason.

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Regardless of the seeming consequence of me making my circumstances a priority, I come back to this: Me first. Even when it stings. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Even when it means letting go.

Not everyone takes a selfie at the oncologist’s office, but when they do, they smile that they’re in this together.

Today, I feel at peace knowing I am exactly where I want to be—with my husband, my partner, my most beloved.

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Love and Courage,

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Leona