Five years ago today, my daughter stood on a TEDx stage in front of a live (socially distanced) audience and practised courage.
She was twelve.
The talk was called A Recipe for BeingYourself, and she opened with a simple, powerful wish:
“I’d love to live in a world where every single person can be themselves fully and never feel the need to be someone else.”
At the time, I was working with senior leaders, from headteachers to CEOs on developing authenticity in leadership. Yet here was my child, still in her first year of secondary school, naming the very heart of it: the tension between who we are and who we think we need to be in order to belong.
She offered a metaphor I’ve never forgotten—identity jackets. In her first term at big school, she said, it felt like everyone was trying on different ones: “crazy,” “cool,” “I don’t care.” But none of them quite fit. The jacket that felt most like her had slipped off the hanger and was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor.
She described the exhaustion of trying to perform belonging. The pressure to filter out the parts of yourself that might not be accepted. And the quiet relief of picking up her true jacket again—comfy, imperfect, unbranded—and deciding to wear it anyway.
It was honest. It was wise. And it has shaped how I think about leadership every day since.
Why “Be Yourself” is Terrible Advice—Unless We Show People How
“Just be yourself” is the advice we give young people heading off to school, interviews, social events. But let’s be honest: adults are no better at it.
In our work at Leaderbeing, we see it all the time. Brilliant leaders who’ve spent years succeeding by wearing the jacket that was expected of them. The strong one. The strategic one. The selfless one. The expert. The fixer. The CEO. The performer. The helper.
And yet… something starts to feel off. Tight. Incongruent.
They’ve outgrown the jacket. Or maybe it was never truly theirs to begin with.
In a world that rewards performance, it’s easy to confuse role with identity. To filter ourselves for approval. To mute the parts of us that are inconvenient, emotional, uncertain or unfinished.
But filtered leadership doesn’t build trust. It builds distance.
And distance, over time, erodes teams, relationships and wellbeing.
The Filters We Wear
Connie shared in her talk that the word filter comes from the Latin filtrum—a piece of felt used to strain impurities from liquid.
How often do we do the same with ourselves?
We strain out the mess, the doubt, the tenderness, the weirdness. We make ourselves more palatable. More professional. More perfect.
But here’s the paradox: when we never show our “impurities,” we lose access to the very things that connect us as humans—vulnerability, humour, depth, warmth, relatability, humility. These are the qualities that make us not only trustworthy, but magnetic.
Leadership, at its core, isn’t about being impressive. It’s about being real enough to inspire others to be real too.
Terrified But True
There have been many times in my life when I’ve stood up in front of a room—sometimes as a speaker, sometimes as a leader, sometimes as a woman in a room that wasn’t built for me—and I’ve been shaking inside.
And still, I stood up.
And still, I spoke.
That’s the kind of courage my daughter modelled on that TEDx stage. Not the absence of fear, but the willingness to be seen anyway.
At Leaderbeing, we call this standing in your Centre. It’s not about posturing or pretending. It’s about grounding yourself in something deeper than performance: presence, purpose, integrity.
It’s the work we do with leaders everyday—helping them reconnect with who they are beneath the armour. Helping them name their fears. Helping them practise the courage to show up as themselves.
Helping People Find Their Identity Jacket
The work of becoming yourself isn’t limited to childhood or adolescence. It’s lifelong.
It’s as relevant for a 12-year-old navigating the culture of their school as it is for a senior leader navigating boardroom dynamics.
That’s why, in both our leadership programmes, we help people move from performing to embodying. From filtered to congruent. From disconnected to aligned.
We do it through models like the Essence Compass, through reflective practice and embodiment work, through courageous conversations and compassionate challenge.
Because we believe that who you are being matters as much—if not more—than what you are doing.
And that leadership without selfhood is just a louder version of pretending.
A New Kind of Recipe
Connie ended her talk with a beautiful idea: a recipe for being herself.
Not modelled on fictional superheroes or perfect role models—but drawn from the real, flawed, wonderful people around her. She offered a tablespoon of courage from a friend, a litre of belief from a teacher, a squeeze of humour from her dad, and a handful of honesty from her friends.
It wasn’t about changing who she was.
It was about topping up what was already there.
That, to me, is leadership.
Not the invention of a persona—but the nourishment of an essence.
So here’s my recipe:
The Real Work of Leadership
If you take nothing else from this post, take this:
The real work of leadership isn’t becoming more impressive.
It’s becoming more you.
The kind of you that stands up—even terrified—and speaks truth.
The kind of you that creates space for others to take off their jackets too.
The kind of you that remembers that authenticity isn’t a performance. It’s a practice.
I’m endlessly grateful to my daughter for reminding me.
And today, five years on, I renew my own pledge:
To be unfiltered.
To take inspiration from real people.
To practise courage—not perfection.
And to lead with essence.
