Meet the Models: Sheelagh Cawleyknopf 2025

Model Spotlight: Sheelagh Cawleyknopf

“Don’t disappear.”

When Sheelagh Cawley reflects on her experience with breast cancer, she doesn’t focus first on her diagnosis, or the treatments, or even the fear. She begins with something deeper—something many people forget:

“If there’s one thing I wish people who will never be diagnosed could understand, it’s this: don’t disappear.

In the whirlwind of a cancer diagnosis, when everything else becomes uncertain, presence—the simple, steady presence of loved ones—can be a lifeline. And for Sheelagh, learning that truth the hard way shaped not just how she walked through cancer, but how she shows up for others now, too.


Diagnosis in a Friend’s Kitchen

Sheelagh didn’t receive her diagnosis in a sterile exam room. Instead, she was sitting at her neighbor Molly’s kitchen table—a place of friendship and familiarity—when the words that would change everything came through a patient portal.

Molly, a physician at Mass General Brigham, gently broke the news. There was breast cancer. There were next steps. And there was Sheelagh, trying to process it all before she had to go home and sit down for dinner with her family—including her then 9-year-old son, Franck.

“I remember calling my husband from her kitchen, asking him to try to act normal through dinner. I couldn’t say the words to our son yet. I needed time.”

That moment—ordinary on the surface but seismic in meaning—was just the beginning.


Doing It Alone (But Not on Purpose)

Once diagnosed, Sheelagh moved quickly into the machinery of treatment: scans, blood work, pre-ops, recovery protocols. But what stands out most in her memory is the isolation—largely self-imposed.

“I didn’t bring anyone with me. I thought I could manage it. But in pre-op, lying there alone, it hit me. I broke down. I was terrified.”

In hindsight, Sheelagh sees how her instinct to go it alone—driven by how she was raised—was a disservice to her own healing.

“If I could do it over, I would accept help. I would never go to an appointment alone again. I would join the therapy groups. I would let people in.”


The Unexpected and the Invisible

Like many survivors, Sheelagh was surprised not just by the toll of treatment, but by how impersonal it could feel.

“I was prepared for the physical fatigue. But I wasn’t prepared for how invisible I could feel—like a chart more than a person.”

Yet amidst that impersonality, moments of grace shone through. A nurse holding her hand. A receptionist saying her name with kindness. A radiologist who slowed down just long enough to connect.

“Kindness can still find a way in.”

But it was after treatment ended that the emotional unraveling truly began.

“No one warns you about the aftermath. When the appointments stop, the emotions catch up—and that’s when it gets really hard.”


Creating Community: “In It Together”

Out of that silence, Sheelagh created something beautiful: a small circle of women who text, vent, laugh, and lift each other up through survivorship. They call themselves “In It Together.”

“That group has saved me more times than I can count. It reminds me every day that no one should go through this alone.”


The Power of Presence

Perhaps the most meaningful support Sheelagh received came not from grand gestures, but from quiet, consistent love. One friend, understanding that Sheelagh wouldn’t ask for help, texted:

“I’m not going to ask what you need, because I know you won’t tell me. So I’m just going to check in.”

She did. Regularly. Without pressure or expectation.

“She didn’t make me feel like a patient or a project. Just loved.”


Why She Dances

This fall, Sheelagh will walk the Runway to honor the journey she’s survived and the community that held her. She’ll walk for herself, for her family, for Franck, for the other women in her circle—and for everyone who has ever felt invisible in their diagnosis.

Her message to us all?

“When someone you love is diagnosed with cancer, don’t vanish. Don’t retreat. Don’t make it about you. Show up. Be present. That’s what love looks like.”

Sheelagh’s story is a testament to resilience, compassion, and the quiet power of showing up. We are so honored to have her on the Runway this year—and we know her courage will echo through every step she takes.