When the Rhythm Changes

The one thing that ignited anger in me as a twenty-something was being told, “everyone’s timeline is different.”Back then, I felt like I had to keep up with the world, with expectations, with milestones. (You can blame the internet, my millennial mindset, or the magazines I grew up with for that one.)

At 28, life showed me how quickly everything can come crashing down when you live for others.And at the near end of 34, life reminded me again. Even when you think you have the rhythm under control, it can take a sharp turn. Between 28 and 34, I was lucky enough to rediscover who I was — and how to keep becoming her. I became someone who measured life by momentum: by what’s next, what’s being built, what’s being improved.Progress was my rhythm.

Then, three months ago, my rhythm changed.

I was diagnosed with Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia (CML) a rare and chronic form of blood cancer. It sounds dramatic written like that, but the strange thing is: most days, I look completely fine.

I still go to work.

I still plan events, lead teams, and write strategies.

I still laugh.

I still show up.

But inside, something fundamental shifted.Not just in my body, but in how I think about time, ambition, energy and what it means to keep going.

When people hear the word cancer, they picture a battle: a visible struggle, a beginning and an end. CML doesn’t fit that story.

It’s quiet.

It’s managed.

It’s invisible.

And it’s lifelong.

There’s no finish line. No remission date circled on the calendar. Just a long relationship with uncertainty — a daily negotiation between gratitude and fatigue, normalcy and vigilance.

This space isn’t about illness, it’s about integration. About what happens when life asks you to evolve before you’re ready.

Some days, I’ll write about what it feels like to live with an invisible disease. Other days, I’ll reflect on leadership, resilience, or the quiet lessons this experience keeps teaching me.

My hope is that somewhere between those two worlds, you’ll find something that resonates; whether you’re living with your own invisible challenge, leading through uncertainty, or just trying to be a little more human in how you work and live.

Because the truth is, we’re all living in some kind of in-between.And maybe learning to honour that space, not rush through it; is the real lesson in resilience.