What does it mean to lead a life you love—especially when that life includes unimaginable loss? For Kristina Burke, it means choosing love as a daily practice, showing up with integrity even in grief, and letting both pain and purpose shape her into the woman—and leader—she is today. Through heartbreak, community, and a deep commitment to personal growth, she’s redefined what strength, leadership, and legacy look like. In this conversation, she shares her story with unflinching honesty and wisdom—reminding us that it’s possible to be both soft and strong, broken and whole.
What does leading a life you love look like for you?
Every morning as my kids head off to school, one thing I say is “Lead with Love.” We talk about what that means for them and why it’s important for them and those around them. Leading a life I love means living in alignment with both my purpose and my pain. It’s not about constant happiness. It’s about honesty, integrity, and showing up fully, even in grief. I’ve learned that love and loss can coexist, and that fulfillment often comes not from avoiding sorrow, but from allowing it to shape us into softer, stronger versions of ourselves. A life I love is one where I feel deeply connected—to myself, to others, and to something greater than the moment I’m in. It also means no matter what lies ahead for me, where my story continues, I will always carry my late husband’s love with me.
What role has community played in your journey?
Community has been everything in my journey. In the wake of losing my husband, it was community—both expected and unexpected—that held me up. Whether it was friends who showed up with hugs, tissues & wine, colleagues who helped me with the day of memorial coordinating, neighbors who helped me with the kids, or lost connections that have since been newly rekindled, the community reminded me I wasn’t alone. It’s through community that healing feels possible.
My community here in Philly is diverse and each group tells a story of where I’ve been, what I have accomplished with them, and how they all have had a role in shaping who I am today. It’s because of them that I did not move after losing my husband. My children needed and depended on the neighborhood they knew, their friends and something familiar after the world they knew was shattered. It’s where I’ve found belonging without needing to be “fixed.”
I live in two truths. I can be completely broken down some days, distraught, while also living a full life. I can be upset and grieve the life that I had, and the life I wanted to have, and also be grateful for the love that we fostered through our children and ourselves. There’s always two sides and they live together now. And my community will always be with people who can accept that new version of me.
What are some of the habits that you have that keep you grounded, keep you moving?
I was lost in my grief for a while, just swirling in the depths of it. I didn’t have tools or practices to help me function daily but I started to pick them back up after I heard a friend say “change can happen, and it can all start with a green smoothie.” It was that simple habit for her—waking up, getting out of the house, walking to get the smoothie. That’s how she started her day.
So, I started making green smoothies every day, it was a challenge to see if that would or could change anything for me. It did! I started going to the gym regularly. The gym was making me feel balanced & stronger physically, but also emotionally. I started going to sleep earlier and sleeping better throughout the night. I stopped leaning on food and wine to comfort me in my sadness.
I took up walking, and walking with friends. It wasn’t just the walking that helped, it’s the connectivity with others that I was craving. For me, feeling grounded meant doing one good thing at a time, making it a practice, building healthy micro habits. Sticking with them when I can and learning NOT to punish myself when I skipped.
Another habit is sharing my story. I can be strong and vulnerable at the same time. I share my truths. I’m never going to back away from my love story or my grief story because I’m realizing that other people benefit from hearing about our cancer diagnoses, our treatment, and how our family stayed intact through it all. Sharing my story normalizes grief which is a natural reaction to losing someone you love. Telling people I will never “get over” my love or loss but I can try to be the best version of myself having gone through it.
How do we get more women to step out of the comfortable path and into taking more risks and bet on themselves, gaining that confidence and taking different opportunities?
Find a mentor! Every time I speak on panels, I tell students or younger women, “You need a mentor.” Women also need to feel a responsibility to be a mentor to others. Everyone wins when we share our successes and failures. Everyone wins when we share our lived experiences.
Women also need a mirror. Women that feel successful in their personal lives and careers need to be a mirror for other women. We have to start reflecting back to other women what they are amazing at so that they’re reminded of those things. It’s not just to reflect the great things, but also what needs improvement.
I lost my mirror when I lost my husband to cancer. Everything we did—personally, professionally, parenting and even during treatment, we did together as a unified team. Everything we did was a reflection of our decisions. I lost that sense of confidence, that safety net that comes from being in a happy partnership. Without that constant connection and co-creating, my world got very quiet. I started to internalize every decision I made alone. I lost a lot of confidence. I’m learning to find my purpose through all of my losses. I’m learning to like who I see in the mirror and listen to softer, kinder voices. My mirror reminds me my husband would be immensely proud of all I’ve done in the face of such adversity.
If you could rewrite the rules for women in leadership, what would you change?
If I could rewrite the rules for women in leadership, I’d remove the pressure to lead like we have something to prove. I’d normalize rest as part of resilience. I’d redefine strength to include softness, grief, intuition, and pause. For far too long, leadership has been measured by output, dominance, or visibility—but I believe true leadership is measured by depth, integrity, and the ability to hold space for others. Women shouldn’t have to abandon their humanity to lead. If anything, it’s our humanity that makes us powerful.
What is the legacy you hope to leave?
I never went about my life thinking of the word legacy. Interestingly enough, after I lost my husband, the father to our children, his legacy has some up quite a bit. Luckily throughout his career as a chef and leader in his industry, the kids have been witness to his legacy. They know it’s all about having mutual respect for people, always leaving things better than you found them, never giving up and never giving in. He always told the kids “be a finisher”
I guess the legacy I’d like to leave is that I raised great citizens of the world. I hope they remember the things I tell them daily before they leave for school.
The first is: Lead with love. When you’re making decisions from a place of love you’re always going to land on the best decision for the most number of people. We should always be thinking about the greater good. Fear, jealousy and ignorance can’t help you be a great leader, love will always win.
The second thing is: It’s better to be kind than it is to be right. I have learned that being right matters so much less in life than being kind. What I tell the kids is anybody can be right, we live in a world of smartphones and AI, it doesn’t always matter who answers first or has the last word. Don’t argue with someone just to prove a point, in the end it won’t matter. No one will remember if you had the last word, but they will always remember how you made them feel. Just choose kindness first.
It seems very, very simplistic, but I think I just want my legacy to be: She always made things better than she found them. She made the people around her feel good, she was a wonderful cook and an awesome host. She was loyal. She was fierce and soft, and knew how to lead by being both.
Kristina Burke is a seasoned hospitality and event professional based in Philadelphia, known for her high energy, attention to detail, and ability to create meaningful connections that drive purpose-driven fundraising. With over two decades of experience, she brings both passion and precision to every project she touches. Currently pursuing certification as a trauma-informed grief coach, Kristina is devoted to supporting young mothers navigating the loss of a spouse or partner to serious illness. Inspired by her own journey through loss, she’s creating safe, steady spaces where healing and hope can rise—wave by wave.
