International Women’s Day is often filled with stories of achievement. We celebrate milestones, leadership, progress and the women who appear to have navigated it all with confidence and clarity.
But the longer I’ve worked in business, the more I’ve realised that what we celebrate publicly is only ever part of the story.
We see the outcomes. We rarely see what it took. Because behind every milestone we celebrate lie countless unseen moments of courage and persistence.
And that’s why I decided to write this, even though I very nearly didn’t.
When my team asked me to contribute something inspiring for International Women’s Day, my first reaction wasn’t pride. It was hesitation. An old internal narrative resurfaced almost instantly: Is it good enough? Am I inspiring enough? What if it falls short?
It’s a familiar voice. As a woman in business, both in my employed career and now as a founder, I’ve often felt I needed to work harder than everyone else. Say yes more readily. Stay later. Be better prepared. Deliver more. Strike the perfect balance between warmth and decisiveness. Be ambitious but not intimidating. Be human, but not emotional.
That constant calibration can be exhausting. And over time, it creates a quiet pressure to prove yourself again and again.
So, when I questioned whether I had something inspiring enough to say, I recognised the pattern. But this time, instead of listening to it, I paused.
That pause, the ability to notice the doubt without being ruled by it, is resilience.
And resilience, I believe, is what International Women’s Day should give more space to.
Because while we rightly celebrate visible success, we don’t talk nearly enough about the inner strength that sustains it. Resilience isn’t dramatic or loud. It doesn’t always look like a comeback story. More often, it’s the steady decision to continue. It’s showing up when you feel uncertain. It’s speaking even when your voice shakes. It’s trying again after something hasn’t worked.
It’s also something we can learn.
We often talk about resilience as if it’s a personality trait, something you either have or you don’t. But my experience has taught me that it’s built gradually, through setbacks, reflection, responsibility and sometimes pain. It grows each time you face something difficult and realise you are still standing.
Last year, my resilience was tested in a way no professional challenge had ever prepared me for. I lost my beloved dad.
Grief has a way of unravelling you. It shifts your perspective overnight. The person who had always been my steady presence, my voice of reason and unconditional support, was suddenly gone. There is no leadership training that equips you for that kind of loss. No business framework for navigating the days that follow.
And yet, life does not pause. Work continues, responsibilities continue. Teams rely on you. Decisions still need to be made.
I had to draw on a different kind of resilience. Not the polished, capable version we often present at work, but something much more human. It meant accepting that I wouldn’t be operating at full capacity. It meant leaning on my team in ways I hadn’t before. It meant allowing myself to feel the depth of the loss without interpreting that emotion as weakness.
What I learned is that resilience is not about being unaffected. It is about continuing even when you are.
Throughout my career, I’ve been fortunate to have strong female role models, women who have led with intelligence, fairness and humour, who have spoken up when it was uncomfortable, and who have balanced ambition with compassion.
I’ll be forever grateful to these women, who have supported me and shown me so much. By way of thanks, I hope I can pay that forward to the next generation of women in comms and marketing.
I’ve always admired women in the public eye who have navigated scrutiny and challenge and yet remained unapologetically themselves. Not that women and their bodies should be scrutinised in the way they are in the press! I’ve particularly followed the careers of Kate Winslet, Jo Brand, Kathy Burke, Dawn French and Skin from Skunk Anansie – to me, they epitomise female power and impact.
But the most powerful example of resilience in my life is much closer to home.
After losing her life partner of more than 50 years, my mum has faced a reality she never expected to navigate alone. I have watched her grieve, and I have also watched her rebuild. She is finding new routines, new friendships, a new rhythm to life. Not because it’s easy, and not because she isn’t hurting, but because she is choosing to keep living fully despite that hurt.
There is nothing performative about that strength. It is quiet, steady, and extraordinarily brave.
And perhaps that’s the point.
On International Women’s Day, we should absolutely celebrate achievement. But we should also honour the resilience that makes those achievements possible, the unseen strength behind the visible success.
