IGNITED LEADERSHIP: WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE WAITING FOR? Life, Death, and the Courage to Live on Our Own Terms

Today, my friend of nearly 50 years called to tell me she has Stage 4 metastatic cancer.

I gripped my cellphone so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears pricked my eyes. I swallowed hard.

“Sue, I, ah, don't know what to say. I'm sor—”

“I'm fighting this,” she interrupted. “I'm doing chemo. I believe in miracles. I'm going to beat this with the power of Jesus.”

“Of course,” I said. “What do you need?”

“I need you to pray.”

THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HER TIME

Sue is 63. Like me.

We've been friends since high school. She's the mother of three, with her first grandchild on the way.

In our group of six girlfriends, Sue is the one who takes care of everyone. She organizes the trips, makes the reservations, and figures out everyone's share of the restaurant bill including the tip.

Sue is the woman who makes sure everyone else is okay.

After raising her three children and spending years caring for her mother and grandmother, Sue and her husband recently retired.

Finally, it was their turn.

Iceland. Japan. Costa Rica. Golf at St. Andrews in Scotland. A Mercedes Sprinter van to travel across the U.S. visiting their children and future grandchildren.

They had plans. Big, beautiful, well-earned plans.

Shit.

I started writing this to honor Sue, and suddenly it sounds like an obituary.

She's still here. She's fighting. And I'm already grieving.

Some days, I cycle through denial, anger, bargaining, and depression in a single hour.

Acceptance? Not even close.

FUCK CANCER.

THE CRUEL IRONY OF FINALLY LIVING

Here's the irony.

At 63, I finally feel like I'm living.

Not just surviving. Not performing. Not checking off everyone else's to-do list.

Living.

I breathe. I ponder. I play. I laugh. I rest. I make choices about how I spend my time.

I'm finally becoming the director of my life.

But holy shit, I waited.

I waited until the kids were grown. Until I retired. Until I had enough money. Until the car was paid off. Until there was enough time.

And until I conquered my anxiety, perfectionism, and people-pleasing.

Until things settled down.

When the hell does life ever settle down?

And why does it sometimes take the possibility of death to remind us that we're allowed to live?

WOMEN HAVE BEEN TAUGHT TO POSTPONE THEMSELVES

We've been handed a script:

Be good.

Put others first.

Don't make waves.

Be grateful.

Wait your turn.

And so we wait.

Until we lose ten pounds. Until we feel confident. Until we have enough money, time, or permission.

We become experts at being responsible, productive, dependable, agreeable, and available.

We get so damn good at managing everyone else's lives that we forget to ask one question:

WHAT DO I WANT?

Not what my partner wants. Or my children. Or my boss. Or my aging parents.

What do I want?

And here's an even harder question:

Am I living the life I chose, or the life I was taught to live?

CHANGE THE STORY. CHANGE WHAT'S POSSIBLE.

This is where Pillar 1 of Ignited Leadership—Story Is a Leadership Tool— comes in.

We've spent decades living by stories we didn't write. Stories about being good women, selfless mothers, dutiful daughters, and tireless caregivers.

But those stories aren't laws. They're stories.

And stories can be questioned. Challenged. Rewritten.

Ignited Leadership begins when we recognize stories are shaping our choices and decide which ones we're no longer willing to live by.

We don't need to wait for a crisis to pick up the pen.

EVEN THE CLICHÉS NEED A REWRITE

You know the ones we've heard a thousand times.

“Live every day as if it's your last.”

How about: Live today as if it belongs to you.

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

Maybe. But wisdom is wasted when we don't act on it.

“You only live once.”

Then why the hell are you living by someone else's rules?

These sayings have become clichés because we've repeated them so often they've lost their punch.

Until something happens that makes them painfully personal.

I DON'T WANT TO BE 23 AGAIN

At 23, death feels abstract.

At 43, we're too damn busy.

At 63, we're beginning to understand that the future isn't an unlimited resource.

But here's the thing.

I don't want to be 23 again. I want to be fully alive at 63.

I've spent decades learning, unlearning, loving, losing, questioning, growing, and becoming.

Why would I want to go backward and surrender the authority I've finally earned over my life?

I wouldn't.

Maybe youth isn't wasted on the young.

Maybe the real tragedy is wisdom wasted on women who still believe they need permission.

IGNITED MOMENTS: STOP WAITING TO LIVE

Being the leader of your life doesn't require quitting your job, flying to Paris, or reinventing yourself.

It starts with small, intentional choices.

I call these Ignited Moments—the everyday decisions that help us reclaim our voice, our agency, and our lives.

Try one today:

1. Say NO. To something you don't want to do. No explanation required.
2. Say YES. To something that makes you feel alive.
3. Tell someone you love them. Don't save it for a special occasion.
4. Stop apologizing. For the cake, the nap, the unanswered text, or needing time to yourself.

Small choices. Big shifts.

Every time you choose yourself, you begin rewriting your story.

NOT SOMEDAY. TODAY.

I don't want to turn Sue's cancer into some inspirational lesson about living your best life.

That feels insulting.

She didn't get cancer so I could have an epiphany.

But I can't ignore what her diagnosis has stirred in me.

We were girls together. We thought we had forever.

Now we're 63, and I'm confronting something I'd much rather avoid.

I don't know how much time Sue has left.

I don't know how much time I have left.

Neither do you.

And I'm not going to tell you to live every day like it's your last. That's exhausting. Some days we need to do laundry, pay bills, and sit on the couch watching bad television.

But I am going to ask you something.

Are you living your life? Or are you still waiting for permission?

Permission to rest. To speak up. To change your mind. To leave. To begin. To want more. To want less. To be yourself.

Because Ignited Leadership isn't about becoming someone extraordinary.

It's about recognizing that your ordinary, messy, beautiful life belongs to you.

And acting like it.

Not someday.

Today.

Author's note: Names and identifying details have been changed to protect privacy.