I thought I had to be perfect to lead

For most of my career, I carried an unspoken rule:
Leaders have to have it all together.

No cracks.
No doubts.
No messy human moments.

Just competence, confidence, and a perfectly polished exterior.

There are quite a number of leaders I know who project exactly that, the kind of poised, untouchable professionalism that looks effortless. One day, when I grow up, maybe I’ll be just like them.

But today?
I’m choosing to embrace the version of myself I’ve always been:
a little quirky, a little sideways, a little messy, and completely real.

Like many founders (and as I’ve spoken about openly before), I am no stranger to imposter syndrome. I can walk into a room full of brilliant minds, CEOs, therapists, compliance directors, creators, and still feel like the teenager who never quite fit in. Add to that the reality of being a high-masking autistic woman running a mental-health charity in an industry the world doesn’t always treat kindly… and, well, you can imagine the pressure I put on myself.

To those who lead from the front and make it look easy:
I salute you. Truly.

But perfection isn’t the sign of great leadership.
Humanity is.

Everyone is learning.
Everyone is trying.
Everyone is human.

This is something I spoke about recently during a Wellbeing by PS training:
If you want a healthy team, you can’t just tell them it’s okay to ask for help.
you have to show them.

People don’t learn from policies.
They learn from permission.
And they learn permission by witnessing vulnerability.

When I stopped trying to tuck away the “odd” parts of myself, the quirks, the humour, the autistic wiring that makes my brain work at slightly unexpected angles, something surprising happened:

I started forming stronger connections.

At shows, in boardrooms, at conferences (9am with terrible coffee or 9pm with terrible wine), the more I allowed the real me to show up, the more others showed up as themselves too.

Conversations became more honest.
Collaborations became smoother.
Relationships became deeper.

And, to my knowledge, no one has run away yet.

Of course, professionalism still matters.
Boundaries matter.
Consistency matters.

But I’ve learned that professionalism doesn’t require dimming your light, even when that light is quirky, chaotic, or unmistakably “Leya.”

When you let people see who you really are, they respond with who they are.
And strangely enough, that makes everything, leadership, teamwork, community, so much stronger.

Because most people aren’t looking for a flawless leader.

They’re looking for a human one.

with love,

Leya