When I accepted my first Director role in the late nineties, I was certain that great leaders had all the answers.

I spoke more than I listened. I tried to sound decisive before I was ready because I thought uncertainty looked like weakness. I believed confidence meant never letting anyone see you question yourself.

I had constructed an idea of what a leader was supposed to look like — and I was determined to become it.

The Performance Behind the Performance

Looking back over my career, I can see it everywhere: overpreparation, perfectionism, a relentless drive to avoid mistakes. Constantly reading the room. Quietly calculating how my words and expressions might be interpreted before I said or did anything.

I became highly successful. People described me as calm, professional, confident, and resilient. What they didn't see was how much energy it took to create that version of myself. Every day felt like performing a role I had rehearsed for decades.

The accolades were real. So was the exhaustion.

When Admiration Became Imitation

I admired leaders who inspired me. That admiration is healthy — learning from people who are further along is how we grow. But somewhere along the way, admiration became imitation. Without realizing it, I slowly traded pieces of my own leadership style for the version I thought successful leaders were supposed to become.

It took me years to understand the difference between learning from great leaders and becoming one of them.

The Question I Finally Started Asking

Today, I still learn from leaders I admire. But I no longer measure myself by how closely I resemble them. Instead, I ask a different question:

Am I leading from who I am — or from who I think I'm supposed to be?

That question changes things. Not because it removes the need to develop and grow — but because it changes the direction you grow in. Toward yourself, rather than away from yourself.

I've come to believe our greatest impact comes not from successfully performing a version of leadership we've borrowed from someone else — but from leading authentically as who we actually are.

Am I leading from who I am — or from who I think I'm supposed to be?

Reflection: Whose version of leadership have you been trying to perform? What would it look like to lead fully as yourself instead?