THE LEADERSHIP THAT STAYED WITH ME
Why the best leadership lessons are rarely taught — they are experienced.
Some leaders change your career.
A few change your life.
When I think back to my very first relevant job, I realise how quietly fortunate I was. I didn’t know it then, but I had stepped into an environment that would shape not only how I work but how I lead, coach, and relate to people to this day.
My former boss — still one of my closest friends since 1989 — led with a kind of clarity and calm that made everyone around her better. She was transparent, open, kind, and consistent. She never needed to raise her voice to be respected. She didn’t demand authority — she embodied it.
At the time, I was young, ambitious, and eager to prove myself. I thought leadership was about being competent, assertive, and in control. What she showed me was something entirely different: that leadership can be soft-spoken and still powerful; that trust grows not through perfection but through presence; and that kindness, when grounded in integrity, is one of the most underrated forms of strength.
The Freedom to Get It Wrong
Those four years with her were a masterclass in psychological safety — long before that term became fashionable. She created a space where mistakes weren’t treated as failures but as feedback. We were allowed to get things wrong, provided we stayed accountable.
What she conveyed, without needing to say it outright, was this:
I trust your judgement. I trust your intention. And if something doesn’t work, we will address it — without drama, without blame — and we will find a way to fix it.
It wasn’t a sentence she ever spoke.
It was the environment she created — the way she listened, the questions she asked, the steadiness she embodied when things became difficult.
That kind of environment does something remarkable: it teaches people to think for themselves. When you know you won’t be humiliated for imperfection, you begin to take intelligent risks. You experiment, you grow, and you develop a confidence that stays with you for the rest of your life.
To this day, I consider this one of the purest expressions of leadership:
the ability to create safety without removing responsibility.
Clarity Without Control
Another lesson that stayed with me was her clarity. She communicated expectations with precision and transparency — not through micromanagement, but through alignment. Everyone knew what mattered and why it mattered.
Clarity, I learned, is not control.
Control comes from fear — the fear that without constant supervision, things will fall apart.
Clarity comes from confidence — the belief that people rise to the occasion when they understand the purpose behind their work.
She never confused authority with ego. And because of that, her presence made people more confident — never smaller.
Kindness as Strength
Kindness is one of the most underestimated forms of power in leadership. For many, it still carries the stigma of softness — as if being considerate somehow compromises authority. But genuine kindness is anything but soft; it requires enormous strength. It requires emotional maturity, self-awareness, and a depth of confidence that doesn’t need to posture.
What I witnessed in those early years was not “nice leadership.” It was strong leadership expressed kindly. That kind of leadership restores dignity. And dignity is what makes people committed, resilient, and willing to go beyond the minimum.
Her kindness also had structure.
It had boundaries and clarity.
It was not the kind of kindness that avoids conflict or smooths over discomfort just to keep the peace. It was the kind that makes it safe to bring the truth into the room.
When something needed to be addressed, she addressed it. She did not rush, she did not dramatise, and she did not humiliate. She spoke plainly, respectfully, and with the intention to restore — not to correct for the sake of dominance or display.
You always knew where you stood with her.
And that is a rare and profound gift.
What I learned from her is that kindness in leadership is not passive.
It is active.
It is intentional.
And it requires discipline.
This means:
choosing patience when irritation would be easier,
staying curious when judgement wants to take over,
listening longer than your ego would prefer,
and holding boundaries without ever becoming punitive.
It takes strength to remain kind under pressure.
Strength to respond instead of react.
Strength to stay anchored when others project their chaos.
Kindness is not weakness — it is the refusal to let someone else’s behaviour dictate your integrity.
She showed me that kindness is not the opposite of authority. It is the foundation of it. People didn’t follow her because they had to. They followed her because they trusted her. And trust built on kindness endures — long after titles change and roles evolve.
Her leadership taught me that when kindness is paired with consistency and clarity, it becomes one of the most powerful forms of influence. It disarms defensiveness. It promotes accountability without shame. It creates a culture where people feel safe enough to grow rather than afraid to try.
That, to me, is strength in its most human form.
Recognising the Philosophy Years Later
Many years later, I encountered Small Giants by Bo Burlingham — a book about companies that choose purpose over scale. Reading it felt like recognising something I had experienced long before I knew how to name it.
The philosophy in that book — prioritising values, culture, humanity — was something I had lived firsthand in those early years.
She was, in her own way, a “Small Giant.” And unknowingly, she gave me a template for what leadership could be when ego steps aside and humanity steps forward.
The Seed of a Calling
Looking back, I think she is the reason I became a coach.
Not because she ever called herself one, but because she embodied what coaching truly is: listening with intent, believing in others’ potential, and holding space for growth without interference.
She coached by example — through her steadiness, her clarity, and her respect for every person in the room. At the time I didn’t see it as mentorship, but those lessons became the architecture of the way I lead and guide today.
Leadership, I realised much later, is less about directing and more about shaping the space in which others can thrive.
The Echo of Early Lessons
We often talk about mentors as if they arrive in dramatic, defining moments. But some of the most transformative mentors influence us in quieter, steadier ways.
It is in their tone during a difficult conversation.
It is in how they hold boundaries with grace.
It is in how they treat people when no one is watching.
Those are the lessons that stay long after a job ends.
I hear her influence in how I coach, how I listen, and how I respond rather than react. Those early lessons became a compass I didn’t know I was carrying — one that still points me toward integrity.
What She Taught Me About Trust
Perhaps the greatest gift she gave me was trust. Not trust as something conditional or defensive, but trust as a way of seeing people.
She assumed competence.
She expected accountability.
She believed the best before judging the worst.
And because she trusted me, I learned to trust myself.
That is what great leadership does:
It creates leaders, not followers.
It plants confidence where doubt once lived.
And it leaves a legacy that continues long after the title, the office, and the job itself are gone.
Decades Later
Decades later, we still talk. We’ve grown, changed, learned, unlearned — but the foundation remains. I am proud to call her a friend. Whenever I reflect on what leadership truly means, I return to those early years.
Not because they were perfect.
But because they were formative.
Because they showed me what leadership looks like when it is human, grounded, and real.
Leadership doesn’t perform authority.
It practises it.
It doesn’t demand trust.
It earns it — quietly, consistently, through presence and integrity.
And it doesn’t just direct others.
It shapes who we become.
For Reflection
Who showed you what great leadership feels like?
And how much of their example still lives in the way you lead today?