Linda Kaplan Thaler was honored by The National Breast Cancer Coalition this week at their inaugural Women Who Get it Right dinner. She gave this speech, highlighting her path to fearlessness.
Thank you Deborah Norville, for those kind words. With three kids, and a nationally syndicated show, I don't know how you find the time to sleep, let alone share this evening with me.
And thank you National Breast Cancer Coalition for this wonderful award.
Last week, I saw an interview with Michael J. Fox, and the reporter asked him if he wished he had never suffered from Parkinson's disease. He said, "No. Because if I did not become ill, I would have never gone down this path, and this path has taken me to places I would never have imagined."
Sounds crazy doesn't it? Crazy like Fox I thought...for I have been thinking that all these years as well.
I remember waking up after my biopsy, and hearing the words "carcinoma." Surely, they were talking about someone else, some unfortunate octogenarian in the next room. Surely, they were not talking about a 39 year-old woman, who, after almost five years of infertility, numerous miscarriages, and a fated Down syndrome pregnancy, wanted nothing more than to have a family. No, it couldn't be me.
I remember my mom, who had survived breast cancer herself, telling me that she wished she could go through it for me, but that, even with everyone's support, I would ultimately go through this alone. But promising me that I would re-emerge defiant, courageous, stronger than steel.
I remember apologizing to my father that I wouldn't be able to give him a grandchild.
I remember apologizing to my husband Fred that I'd probably never give him a son. Or a daughter. Or that he might soon not even have a wife.
I remember being wheeled into the operating room, attempting, even then, to find humor in tragedy. High on Ver-sed, I mumbled to my mom, "Just think. When they bring me back from surgery, between us we'll have one lovely pair of breasts."
I remember opening my eyes after surgery, desperately trying to seek out a nurse, an attendant, someone who was there. Someone whose eyes would reveal my fate as I lie there in the post-ether numbness that leaves your heart racing, but your body mute and motionless.
I remember being wheeled back.
I remember seeing my whole family.
I distinctly remember not seeing tears.
I remember feeling that my life, at that moment, had changed forever.
I remember becoming...fearless.
I had wanted to switch jobs, but was always scared of the unknown.
Scared of a new job now?
Ridiculous.
I crashed the glass ceiling in my new job, but the ceiling wasn't' high enough. So I started my own in-house agency.
Fear of failure?
Walk in the park.
We became the fastest growing ad agency in the United States, but the only one run solely by women.
Nervous that we were up against the boys' clubs?
Who cared?
We many not have had the brass kahunas, but we had the eggs. And enough estrogen at our place to make even Arnold Schwartzenegger ovulate.
If we had a client we didn't like, we dropped them.
If we had crazy campaigns, we presented them.
We didn't flinch.
We grew to a billion dollars in billings in under nine years.
My co-partner, Robin Koval, and I wrote a book about losing our fears and called it Bang!
We wrote a 2nd book, letting the world know there was another way of doing business, without using abuse and intimidation. We called it "The Power of Nice."
Were we worried the macho business world would laugh at us?
Never gave it a second thought.
Oh, and along the way, Fred and I had two beautiful children, Michael and Emily. Was I nervous about becoming a mother in my forties?
Nah, I just tell people I gave birth to grandchildren.
Mom, you were right.
Once you conquer the greatest fear of your life...
The rest of it is a piece of cake.