Everything Dr. Helen Fisher Taught Me About Work, Life and Love
Saying goodbye to an icon who changed everything for so many
Biological Anthropologist Dr. Helen Fisher passed away this week. You may think you don’t know her, but I bet you do. Her research on the brain science of love has changed pretty much everything.
At YourTango, we often called her “Our Darling Helen” or “Our Girl Helen”. She was just that type of person. She drew you close.
I first met Helen via Zoom, as one does these days. I thought I knew what to expect because we’d emailed back and forth many times over the years: someone academic, serious and stoic. Someone who would give me some info and hurry on her way — after all, I was just a little editor at YourTango and she was a famed brilliant researcher. But, boy, was I wrong.
Instead, she was laughing when she logged in. Her computer was acting up or Zoom was doing something weird and together we rolled our eyes at the challenges of technology and the expectations that have arisen around it like the pressure to look cute, to always be brilliant, to have the room behind you appear tidy. I felt like we were friends from moment one, which was staggering for me.
Despite the fact that we never got to hang out in person and I truly barely knew her, Helen’s influence on me was massive. She was interested in what I was writing and how my research was going, excited to hear how I was getting along with my book agent, what I’d heard from my publisher and more. This shouldn’t have been shocking to me — we were on the same writing and publishing schedule for my first book and for what turned out to be her last one — but at that time I still felt like an imposter: the black sheep, the bimbo, the dummy who had somehow fooled the publishing industry. But I was none of those things to Helen. I was a smart kid, a clever kid, as she often reminded me when we spoke.
Growing up, I struggled with grades and was generally considered unserious by the adults in my life. I dropped out of college (twice!) before finally fighting my way into UCLA. Since starting my career, I’ve been driven to undo all the stereotypes and misunderstandings I believed the world had about me, sometimes working myself to exhaustion to prove that I deserve my seat at the table. Talking to Helen about our work and respective books helped change all that for me. She never questioned if I was the right person for the job. She told me she was grateful for me, excited for me, and happy I was doing the work that I do.
Her delight every time we saw each other across a screen made me feel valuable. Her belief in my skills, talents, and my intellect made me feel valid. The way she’d say “JOANNA!” when we got on a call lit up my heart. Even from thousands of miles away, it felt like Helen saw me.
Most importantly, Helen’s dedication to living the exact life she wanted, building the exact career she dreamed of, and experiencing true love the exact way it worked for her (see below about hers and John’s living arrangements!) showed me how life can look and will continue to inspire me.
She was the person I needed, even in such a small way, at that point in my life, and I will miss her tremendously. Thinking of not being able to talk to her about our book when it comes out (and hear all about hers!) breaks my heart, but I will always be grateful that she arrived into my life when she did.
We do love you so, dear Helen. You have changed me for the better and I’ll always be grateful.
Here’s an excerpt from her obit in the New York Times:
Helen E. Fisher, a biological anthropologist who went looking for love in the brain circuitry of people who were besotted as well as people who were rejected […] died on Saturday at her husband’s home in the Bronx. She was 79.
John Tierney, her husband, said the cause was endometrial cancer. Dr. Fisher split her time between her husband’s apartment and hers in Manhattan.
…
She submitted the manuscript for her forthcoming book, tentatively titled “Thinking Four Ways: How to Reach Anyone With Neuroscience,” five days before her death, her husband said.
“After she sent it in to her editor at Knopf,” Mr. Tierney wrote in an email, “she cheerfully told me: ‘My work is done. I’ve had a magical life and accomplished more than I ever expected. I’m ready to die.’”
What a dream of a life.
P.S. If you know me at all, you’ll know how much I loved the last part. Helen showed us that we — especially women — don’t have to choose between work and magic. Your work can be part of the magic of your life. Some of us love what we do, and Helen was at the top of that list.
Also read our tribute on YourTango: A Love Letter To Helen Fisher