A message from Katy Stolliday about resilience

By Katy Stolliday

As a business owner it’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking only about your team and how they are coping, and not take time to consider your own mental health. But since becoming part of the PR Week Mental Health Charter Committee I’ve reflected a lot on the mental health issues in our industry, and taken a good hard look at myself and in particular how my resilience has been tested over this last year.  

We founded Blurred with an equal emphasis on people, planet and profit, and place just as much importance on prevention as well as cure – it’s why we launched with a coach as an NED, to help provide invaluable support to all – ourselves included. We actively encourage people to bring their full selves to work – to be who they are at their core – so at times coaching also helps us navigate personal situations (of which there have of course been many of during Covid). 

Aside from all the difficulties Covid has brought, I have personally had a rather extraordinary year and if I’m being true to our business’ values I feel it’s important to be open about it. I’m sure that my story is no different from others that have faced bouts of trauma in their life so this isn’t a pity party, it’s just a reflection of my own resilience in working through trauma, rather than allowing it to instil anger or bitterness within me. And I hope by sharing it, it will give our team comfort to know that the founders are just as vulnerable as they may be at times, and that we’ll support them through whatever life throws at them – just as my business partners have for me. 

So back to resilience. If I’m being kind to myself I’d say I’m pretty strong – having lost my mum and 19 year old brother in a car accident aged 12, I’ve had my fair share of shock, grief and loss, and I came out the other side a seemingly ok person. Sure, I have my moments, but in the main I’m proud of the daughter, friend and wife I am. That tragic event shaped me to be who I am today, and it’s shown me that even when I feel I’m at rock bottom I can somehow make it through. In that sense I’d say I’m pretty resilient. 

But being resilient is not really about acting strong and exerting the vision that everything’s ok. It’s actually about being able to say when things aren’t ok, being able to ask for help and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. And my resilience has certainly been put to the test this last year, as I faced several pretty significant life challenges.  

The first came right on the very first day the severity of Covid really hit, and the day we advised the team to work from home for the foreseeable. That was, however, also the day I underwent an emergency operation.  

At the time I was already extremely unwell with asthmatic bronchitis (which the doctors were convinced was Covid), as well as - unbeknown to anyone other than my husband - being pregnant. That morning, March 16th, I found out it was in fact an ectopic pregnancy that was close to rupture meaning the double whammy of a loss of a baby, and a loss of one of my fallopian tubes (who needs two anyway?!) 

While in shock at the news I was also told that operating would be a big risk due to my lungs being compromised as I could barely breathe alone. Not what you want to hear. And to really throw petrol on the fire, I was also the first ‘likely’ Covid case at the hospital so the whole thing was utter chaos. I was immediately put in isolation, was wheeled to surgery flanked by a five-strong team in maximum PPE and had to be brought out of my anaesthetic while still in the operating theatre to avoid infection – all of which was terrifying. Compound that with a further asthma attack overnight and I was not in a good place. 

During my physical and emotional recovery (and subsequent tricky periods of PTSD), I was given unconditional support from my business partners and was able to utilise several policies we have in place at Blurred. For example, we have a ‘no questions asked’ grief policy that allows a minimum of two week’s paid leave, available for all.  

Towards the end of the year I was hit with further shock of my husband falling victim to Covid-related redundancy and the worst of all, my most beloved Dad being diagnosed with cancer. That was followed swiftly by my Uncle losing his own battle with cancer in the new year. Not a good start to 2021. 

Combine these scenarios in ‘normal’ life and I think it’s fair to say it would be tough, but throw in a pandemic and the forced distance from friends and family, it’s safe to say mentally I was – and still am on occasion – pretty shot.  

But working through it has taught me a lot. To acknowledge my feelings, to lean on those that care about me, to take up the support that’s offered (both in and outside of work) and not feel guilty about it, and to share my vulnerability so I can show others that this is something that affects us all and it’s ok not to always be ok.

Talking openly about mental health is something we actively encourage at Blurred, but it is just one part, and I’m proud that as a business we also take action - offering access to a trained mental health first-aider, fortnightly coaching, a wellbeing allowance of £750 per person, and monthly mental health training sessions. For us though, the most important factor in supporting people’s mental health is not the added extras, but to create an inclusive culture where people can be their true selves, and that’s what we strive to do every day. So this is me sharing my story, as my true self. 

Stuart Lambert