There was a period in my life when I thought I was holding it together. I was managing. Functioning. Showing up to work and teaching the very frameworks I’m about to share with you. On the outside, I looked like I had it handled.
There is a particular kind of confidence that follows a hard conversation. It doesn’t feel like arrogance. It’s more like a release of tension that comes when you’ve finally said what needed to be said and emerged intact.
I watched something shift in a leader recently. It wasn’t dramatic. It was the quiet kind of shift you almost miss if you aren’t paying attention to the right things. We were in a session where a recurring pattern had finally become too loud to ignore.
A few years ago, I found myself in a friendship that had developed a low hum of friction I couldn’t quite name. We were both building something. Both driven. The kind of women who show up fully and expect the same from themselves in every room they enter.
I woke up this past weekend to three separate pieces of difficult news. Three people I care about are looking at something hard. Each of them is sitting with a situation that has no clean resolution in sight. I made my coffee and read the messages again.
I sat with two founders recently, and you could actually feel the temperature change depending on who was speaking. One was energized. He’d just fumbled a hiring decision that cost the firm time, money, and a decent chunk of goodwill.
We are hitting a massive, subterranean shift. This isn’t the kind of “disruption” that gets a catchy name in a trend report or a dedicated slide at a conference. It’s the more heavy-duty kind—the one you only start to feel when you’ve been watching leaders long enough.
There is something undeniably energizing about outrage. You can feel it in the body almost immediately. Certainty sharpens. The line between right and wrong seems to clarify. Someone must be called out.
One of the most common conversations I have when meeting with a new client revolves around accountability. Someone will confide, “We need more of it.” And then, almost in the same breath, they start describing just how hard it actually is to practice.
Paying attention is part of responsible leadership. But not all attention strengthens our capacity to lead. I don’t like how quickly my attention can drift toward the spectacle.