She is not the woman they write about in glossy leadership articles and blogs. She does not rise with the sun, sip herbal tea, and meditate her way into clarity before leading a flawless team meeting.
She wakes with a weight on her chest and a mind that hasn’t rested in days. Sleep evades her…stolen by the ache of a recent divorce, the quiet dread of unpaid bills, the relentless hum of “how will I do this alone?” She stares at the ceiling, not in peace, but in negotiation…with her fear, her fatigue, her faith.
She is the woman who leads with trembling hands and a body that betrays her. The illness she hasn’t spoken of publicly saps her energy, but she still pulls herself upright. She still dresses for the day, even if the clothes feel foreign on skin that longs for rest. She still shows up. Not because she’s ready, but because she’s responsible: to her team, to her children, to the vision that chose her long before she felt worthy of it.
She does not lead from a place of certainty. She leads from the edge, indeed, where doubt dances with duty, where fear is not a foe but a familiar. Her confidence shakes, her voice cracks, her heart races. And still, she speaks. She makes decisions. She holds space. She does not compartmentalise her grief or silence her doubt. She carries them with her like companions, refusing to exile the parts of herself that feel most fragile.
This is not resilience. This is rebellion. Because the world told her leadership was about control, about composure, about showing no cracks. But she is cracked wide open. Through those cracks, light pours in. Her leadership is not polished. It is vibrating. It is not composed. It is courageous. She leads while healing. She leads while hurting. She leads while wondering if she’s enough.
And still… she leads.
She does not wear her strength like armour. She wears it like skin…tender, porous, real. Her leadership is not a performance. It is a prayer. She does not rise above her circumstances; she rises through them. She does not pretend to be fearless; she chooses to move anyway. That choice…that trembling, holy choice to show up when everything inside says hide. This is not just leadership. It is revolution. She knows the only way out is through.
She is not leading from the mountaintop. She is leading from the valley. And still, she builds bridges. She makes space. She does right by her team, her family, and eventually…finally…by herself. She is not the woman they write about. She is the woman they follow. Not because she is flawless, but because she is faithful. To the calling. To the people. To the truth.
She shows up shaking.
And still… she leads.
