Grief Changed Me, And It Made Me a Better Leader
I never expected to find value in my grief. Honestly, during that first year, I woke up every day wishing I could just go back to how things were before I lost my parents. I told myself, “I just want to feel like me again.”
But the truth is, I’ll never be that same person.
Losing my parents changed everything. It cracked something open in me. It reshaped how I think, how I lead, how I live. And it’s still shaping who I’m becoming.
Before grief entered my life, I lived by a pretty unforgiving motto:
“No one cares. Work harder.”
In 2018, I launched a nutrition coaching business and a podcast. My goal was simple: help people feel better. But looking back, I can clearly see that my approach lacked compassion. I was quick to label anything that slowed someone down as an excuse.
Couldn’t work out twice a day? Excuse.
Couldn’t meal prep or eat 100% clean? Excuse.
Struggled to find motivation? Must be lazy.
I didn’t understand why people couldn’t push harder.
Because my own standard was simple: Just do more. Cry if you need to, but don’t stop. Keep moving.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that mindset was rooted in avoidance, in a fear of stillness, in a belief that vulnerability was weakness. That all changed when I lost the two people who had always been my foundation.
Grief gave me a different lens.
Once you’ve experienced real loss, you begin to see the world in a new shade. It’s like putting on glasses you can’t take off. Everything looks different, especially the people around you. Especially how they move through their own hard things.
The empathy I carry now is something I didn’t have before. And it’s fundamentally changed how I show up as a leader.
Now, let me be clear, this isn’t about lowering standards or avoiding accountability.
You can be a strong, results-driven leader and lead with empathy.
In fact, I believe you’ll be more effective when you do.
Empathetic leadership looks like:
Listening — not to respond, but to truly understand
Being present — especially when your team is overwhelmed
Holding space — without judgment or shame
Recognizing humanity — even when the pressure is on
People don’t stop being human when they walk into a meeting, log into a Zoom call, or miss a deadline. The old version of me would’ve said, “Buck up. Keep moving.”
Now, I pause. I ask questions. I help them re-prioritize.
Because that’s what I wish someone would’ve done for me when the weight of life was too heavy to carry alone.
Grief softened me. It humbled me.
And most of all, it reminded me that we lead people — not machines.
For a long time, I thought I had to hide my grief to be seen as strong.
I believed that if I showed up with red eyes or a heavy heart, it would make people uncomfortable. That if I let my pain be visible, I’d lose credibility, or worse, respect. Until I started grieving out loud. Here’s what I know now:
Grief doesn’t make you weak. Hiding it does.
There is immense power in showing up as your full self, even when your heart is cracked wide open.
As leaders, we often feel pressure to keep it all together, to present as polished, steady, and unshakable. But people don’t connect with perfection.
They connect with real.
And there is nothing more real than walking through grief and still showing up, leading with integrity, compassion, and heart.
Being a leader with grief doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you’ve lived. It means you understand loss, and with that comes a deeper understanding of what matters — connection, presence, empathy, and truth.
Authentic leadership means letting people see you, really see you, even when you’re still healing.
Especially then.
So no, I don’t hide my grief anymore.
I carry it. I lead with it. I let it soften my edges without stealing my strength.
Because the most powerful leaders I know aren’t the ones who pretend they’re invincible, they’re the ones who show up with courage, even when it hurts.
And that’s the kind of leader I’m becoming.
Grief and all.
So if you’re leading anyone, a team, a business, a community, even yourself, I encourage you to lean into the kind of leadership that listens, supports, and sees the whole human. You don’t lose your edge by being empathetic.
You earn trust.
You create safety.
You lead in a way that lasts.
And that, to me, is what real leadership looks like.