Authenticity: The Uncomfortable Truth About Being Real

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That which we are most capable of teaching to others is what we are most in need of developing within ourselves.

Since downsizing last year and letting go of our beautiful acreage, we have moved into a world with less financial stress and more simplicity and freedom. The past eighteen months have been a mix of immense gratitude for the newfound ease in our lives and some sorrow for what we let go of. Amidst much reflection, I’ve also been writing my memoir with my daughter, Hayley, and it is filling me with a whirlwind of raw emotions, insights, vulnerability, and much cathartic release. As a result, I find myself on the threshold of a new identity where my old way of seeing the world is dissolving and a quieter, more honest clarity is forming.

Last fall, in the middle of a presentation about authentic leadership, I heard myself talking in a voice that wasn’t my own, speaking words and phrases that I had learned to keep others comfortable and myself safe rather than speaking what I truly knew. The inauthenticity of the experience, the cost of bending to others’ expectations, was not only ironic, but suddenly became too heavy to ignore. It was in that moment that I felt a disobedience, a quiet collapse of the pattern that I had spent decades shaping – to please, to accommodate, to imitate. It was finally time to step into the messy, uncomfortable frontier where life could actually be lived.

I returned to my hotel room, collapsing into a chair, feeling empty, and recognizing that I had spent years sculpting my life around the expectations and demands of others, while neglecting so much of my own soul. I asked myself, “What am I avoiding by keeping this veneer of accommodation?” It was an invitation to begin to meet the parts of myself that have been exiled, hidden, or silenced in the service of belonging.

I am beginning to see authenticity in a whole new way. I am finally able to see the uncomfortable truth that being real is not just about blunt honesty, but about the courage to risk being misunderstood. To say, “this is what I stand for,” and “this is what I long for,” even when it doesn’t necessarily fit the role others expect. Shaping a life and a business focused entirely around meeting other people’s needs, I was not simply being nice or kind or generous; I was practicing a kind of impersonation, wearing a mask that eventually became my face. And that this, over time, was becoming a kind of slow death — not because there was anything “wrong” with me, but because I was afraid to be more fully human.

I’ve realized my heart has a voice that doesn’t bargain for approval, applause, or employment. It simply asks to be heard. All your heart ultimately cares about is meaning and intimate connection with life, not success or perfection. It wants a richly textured existence that includes beauty, sorrow, contradiction, and mystery, rather than a sanitized and scripted life.

I now see this time as not just letting go of our acreage and lifestyle but also of my old identity. I am finally able to acknowledge how I learned early that my worth is tied to usefulness, approval, and the absence of conflict. The cost was that I was busy, successful, pressured, and stressed to avoid the inner emptiness. It became too difficult to keep up the façade and I now am experiencing what it means to follow the true path to authenticity.

The core of authentic leadership lies in emphasizing self-discovery over imitation, having the courage to express your unique voice amid the pressure of approval. In the words of Warren Bennis, leadership is “synonymous with becoming yourself.” It’s that simple, and it’s that complex. The essence of leadership is not to try to become a “leader.” The essence of leadership is self-expression in the service of others as the path to impact. Rather than adopting borrowed roles, it’s about becoming yourself, and to use all your gifts, skills and passion to make your vision manifest, holding nothing back.

The Path to Authentic Leadership

Grant Yourself Some Grace. Recognize that people-pleasing – negating yourself for the care of others – is a shield against vulnerability. It’s often rooted in perfectionism and fear of disapproval and rejection. Cut yourself a little slack with the same kindness you’d offer a loved one. Acknowledge that suppressing yourself stems from a desire for belonging yet inevitably leads to resentment and guilt.

Make Room for Stillness. The best part of downsizing is that by taking some stress away it allows time to be with yourself. While uncomfortable at first, the stillness makes room for some new perspective to emerge. Stillness is defined as awareness without thought. While the surface of a lake may be tormented by a storm, stillness is that place below the surface that is immune from the tempest. Stillness can take the form of a formal meditation or prayer but can also be found during the course of a day when you slow down and are present to what is in and around you.

Find a Sanctuary. Listening to your heart, distinguishing your inner voice from the voices that clamor for attention outside, requires a place where one can hear it. A sanctuary is a haven where you find refuge from demands, turn off the noise of the world, and attend to the voice within. Claiming sanctuary is part of our nature — it is both innate and necessary for us to want to retreat regularly. “If you don’t go within, you will go without.”

Create Transition Rituals. “Ritual” comes from the Sanskrit word rita, meaning that which illumines your transitions. Transitional rituals are practices that illuminate your nature, bring you back to your center, especially when you are making a transition from one role into another – from work to home, from home to work, between stressful meetings, etc. Examples to try: 1) music; 2) quiet time; 3) exercise or bodywork; 4) connection to nature; 5) inspired reading or conversations…

Disconnect To Connect. The ability to concentrate and connect with your authentic self is a skill that can be learned. It’s a habit. Connect to what matters most and disconnect from what matters least. Schedule time to use technology and social media. Schedule time when you can’t be reached. Answer e-mails only during a set time each day.

Find Confidants. We all need support to discover and connect with our authenticity. Confidants hold a safe space for us to be who we are. Providing perspective, they ask questions like, “What’s going on here?” “How are you – really?” “What does your heart say?” They help us hedge against self-deception by asking, “What is the truth?” “What can be learned from the mistake?” “What are your options for corrective action?” True confidants will also have the courage to ask the tough question: “How are you contributing to the problem you are venting about?”

Preserve A Sense of Purpose. We all need a sense of purpose that gets us up early and keeps us inspired. A sense of purpose helps us take setbacks and failures in stride, enables us to step back and review why we do what we do, and renews our energy.

Welcome Amor Fati. Amor Fati is a Latin phrase that means “love of one’s fate.” Amor Fati points to an attitude where you don’t just tolerate what happens in your life—including suffering, loss, and mistakes—but actively embrace it as necessary and meaningful. Instead of wishing circumstances were different, Amor Fati invites you to see every event as raw material for growth, strength, and wisdom, to the point where you would not want your past or present to be otherwise. Step into depth, meaning, and liberation by befriending the darkness.

Authentic Leadership 2026: Leading with Courage, Connection and Core Values in an AI World

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AI is now part of everyday life for most of us. My daughter just bought an AI-powered washing machine that has sensors and algorithms to detect fabric types, load weight, soil levels, and softness, then automatically adjusts water usage, detergent amounts, cycle times, and temperatures for optimal cleaning. AI is an intriguing development and can be a versatile tool for automating repetitive tasks, accessing information quickly, and enhancing decision-making.

I tell my graduate social work students who are training to be psychotherapists that, yes, AI can help you write stronger papers, assist you in accessing research, and help you retrieve information. But AI won’t make you a better therapist. It won’t make you a better social worker. It won’t make you a better person. It will not support or deepen your personal reflection or awareness of yourself. It won’t make you a more caring human being.

AI, like all technology and digital tools, can increase our sense of isolation, even while we appear more connected than ever. AI poses a significant risk of skill atrophy for those who are not well trained, particularly younger generations who have been immersed in it from the beginning. It has enormous environmental impact. And it’s evolving faster than our moral compass can find its bearings.

That’s why, in response to AI and all technologies, we need to be very intentional about building real community and creating spaces where people can grow together in authentic ways – ways aligned with our values, deeply held dreams, and our hearts.

While AI can complement human skills and enhance productivity, does it really make our world better? Is it improving the quality of our lives? Does it address fundamental human needs? Despite the overhyped predictions about artificial intelligence’s limitless capabilities and fears of it displacing jobs, organizations are still human systems even if they are 98% automated. We will always need human beings who care about each other.

After observing the hype and backlash of technology development over many decades, I note that technology always changes faster than headlines. It ultimately is our courage, connection, and core values that determine whether those changes make our lives better or worse. Technologies like AI need to serve deeply held human values through intentional, optimized use, not clutter our attention or replace meaningful effort.

Three strategies to make that happen:

  1. Define a desired future. Have a clear goal of what a better world is for you. Sit with yourself or your family or your team and define what a better world means where you work and live. Take the time to define how AI (or any other technology tool) is helping your commitment to move you toward your desired future and where it may be hindering you. Stop and get your bearings, reevaluate your life, and set out to keep yourself on track as you move toward your desired future.
  2. Foster deep human connection. Make human connection a priority. Talk with your team about how you can integrate technologies such as AI as a tool to help foster relationships. Build genuine connections by leveraging AI to enhance, not replace, empathy by using it for initial data gathering, then dedicate time to create dialogue that uncovers team motivations and fears. Promote informal settings like casual check-ins to reinforce psychological safety, ensuring technology amplifies relational bonds.
  3. Turn off technology. Shifting the relationship with AI from a driver to a toolstarts with developing a new relationship with all technology. And that begins with making room for life without distractions. A good friend founded an initiative that has turned into a social movement around taking intentional breaks from social media (starting with just one day a month). It encourages people to disconnect from screens and engage in real-life activities like nature, sports, arts, hobbies, volunteering, and self-care to boost wellbeing and connection. It’s intended to interrupt the addiction to screens and give people a taste of the difference between being absorbed in social media and being engaged in real life.

Navigating Political and Social Polarization in the Workplace: The Role of Leadership as Unifiers

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On March 18, 1956, Martin Luther King Jr.’s sermon at the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery, Alabama, entitled “When Peace Becomes Obnoxious,” started with a story:
“A few weeks ago, a Federal Judge handed down an edict which stated in substance that the University of Alabama could no longer deny admission to persons because of their race. With the handing down of this decision, a brave young lady by the name of Autherine Lucy was accepted as the first Negro student to be admitted in the history of the University of Alabama. This was a great moment and a great decision. But with the announcement of this decision, ‘the vanguards of the old order began to surge.’ The forces of evil began to congeal. As soon as Autherine Lucy walked on the campus, a group of spoiled students led by Leonard Wilson and a vicious group of outsiders began threatening her on every hand. Crosses were burned; eggs and bricks were thrown at her. The mob jumped on top of the car in which she was riding. Finally, the president and trustees of the University of Alabama asked Autherine to leave for her own safety and the safety of the University. The next day after Autherine was dismissed, the paper came out with this headline: ‘Things are quiet in Tuscaloosa today. There is peace on the campus of the University of Alabama.’”

Peace is not measured by the absence of conflict. Peace is gauged by the respect for differences, the ability to have open, civil dialogue, and the willingness to find common ground and collaborate toward shared goals despite disagreements.

Yes, things were quiet in Tuscaloosa, but the peace on campus, in the words of King, came “at a great price: it was peace that had been purchased at the exorbitant price of an inept trustee board succumbing to the whims and caprices of a vicious mob. It was peace that had been purchased at the price of allowing mobocracy to reign supreme over democracy. It was peace that had been purchased at the price of capitulating to the force of darkness. This is the type of peace that all men of goodwill hate. It is the type of peace that is obnoxious. It is the type of peace that stinks in the nostrils of the Almighty God.”

Leaders play a crucial role in bridging divisiveness and discord in the workplace. Rather than avoiding difficult topics, effective leaders foster open dialogue, model respect, and unite teams around common ground and shared values and purpose. By listening actively and encouraging curiosity, leaders can move conversations from confrontation to connection, transforming disagreement into opportunities for growth.

Emphasizing empathy over partisanship enables leaders to establish a safe environment where all voices are respected, even when perspectives differ. Unifying leaders guide teams to focus on common goals and common ground—such as organizational mission, shared humanity or collective well-being—while also addressing conflict constructively. Through clear communication, accountability, and consistent reinforcement of shared values, leadership can turn workplace polarization into a catalyst for collaboration, innovation, and resilience.

This issue is significant given recent research showing rising incivility related to political differences and social divides in workplaces, which impacts employee morale and can lead to disengagement or turnover. Leaders are now increasingly called upon to foster a culture of respect and safe dialogue on divisive issues. Exploring how organizations can build psychological safety and civil discourse to unite diverse teams remains a matter of continual investigation and vigilance.

Accountability With Heart: Igniting Engagement Through Trust and Ownership

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When Brenda took over as the Executive Director of a community outreach, nonprofit organization, she walked into a team that had lost its spark. People were burned out. Staff meetings were tense. Deadlines constantly slipped and a sense of defensiveness hung in the air. At first, Brenda responded the way many leaders do under pressure—by tightening control. She introduced stricter reporting requirements and frequent check-ins. However, instead of improving performance, morale sank further. One afternoon, after a particularly difficult meeting, a colleague quietly took her aside and said, “We don’t need more tightening—we need more trust.”

This was a defining moment for Brenda, a moment that brought her to reach out and connect with me for coaching. “How could I actually make this request real?” she asked me in our first session.

Together we developed a plan – a plan Brenda has given me permission to share in this article. Below is a high-level overview of her implementation:

  1. One-on-one meetings with every one of her key leadership team members. The purpose was not to correct but simply listen. She asked them about their personal values and how they could feel more supported to live their values at work and away from work. They talked about how each person could be more supported to bring their unique abilities and passion more fully to their work. She talked to them about their defining moments growing up that led them to this work, and about why they decided to work here. She explored with them the kind of culture they wanted to work in and what actions would need to happen to start to live the organization’s espoused values.
  2. Assess fit. In these one-on-one meetings (for some she met more than once), Brenda also discussed their experience of being on the leadership team and what needed to happen to create a place people were proud to work. In these conversations she discovered there was one member that simply didn’t fit into the culture. Through exploring and recognizing that his strengths and approach didn’t align with the organization’s values or direction, she helped him create space to thrive elsewhere and moved him on, in order for the team to move forward authentically.
  3. Establish a team charter. Within three months of arriving, Brenda set aside a day with her entire leadership to ensure that they put a priority on the health of that team. To achieve this, they took time to share their values, to get to know people at a more personal level, and pinpoint the expectations team members had of each other. A “team charter” was written, a list of agreements and a process for responding when those agreements were dishonoured. The outcome was a blueprint for creating a team they were committed to, a culture that would enable them to do their best work, and mutual agreements that would inspire a place they were proud and grateful to work in. They also made agreements about how to extend the same kind of process to their respective teams.
  4. Rigid, controlling oversight was replaced with clear expectations and accountability agreements to each other. All this was balanced by genuine care. Self-care became a high priority in the organization to ensure the care they had for their own teams and the clients they served came from overflow, not emptiness.

The results, over a period of a few months, were transformative. People began taking initiative. Energy and engagement improved. Meaningful results began to emerge, signaling that important progress was finally taking shape.

The heart of accountability lies not in control, but in connection. True ownership flourishes when people feel seen, trusted, and valued for the whole of who they are. Trust transforms accountability from a system of enforcement into a relationship of commitment. When leaders embody warmth and integrity, they invite others to bring their best selves forward—not because they have to, but because they want to.

Too often, accountability in organizations is equated with surveillance or blame. But leaders who lead with heart understand that accountability is ultimately about stewardship. It means caring enough to follow through and having the courage to be honest—with oneself and others—about where improvements are needed. It also means creating psychological safety, so feedback is welcomed, not feared.

Ownership, in turn, is the natural outcome of trust. When people take ownership, they stop working for an organization and start working with it. They see success as a shared creation rather than a metric imposed from the top. This kind of engagement can’t be mandated; it must be cultivated. And it grows best in environments where empathy coexists with high standards, and where mistakes are treated as learning moments, not failures.

Brenda’s team rediscovered what many organizations forget: accountability is most powerful when it feels human. And being human means embracing imperfection. Behind every task and deadline is a person who wants to contribute meaningfully. Systems and goals matter, but they are sustained only by relationships built on trust and respect.

Leaders who practice accountability with heart create ripple effects that extend beyond their teams. They model responsibility without rigidity, compassion without complacency, and transparency without fear. Their legacy isn’t just performance—it’s a culture where people thrive because they are trusted to care as deeply as their leaders do.

In the end, engagement doesn’t ignite from pressure; it ignites from purpose. And purpose grows strongest in workplaces where trust and ownership meet—where people are accountable not out of obligation, but out of love for what they are building together.

Can Organizations Be Too Psychologically Safe?

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It depends on how you define psychological safety. If you define it as making things comfortable or easy or secure for people, then yes, you can have too much psychological safety.

I define psychological safety as simply a place where people can be honest.

Honesty means that you can speak accurately about work progress, challenges, and mistakes without hiding or distorting the facts. It means that you can be upfront about your emotions without blame or intimidation. Honesty means owning mistakes, admitting when something goes wrong and taking responsibility for your part. It means being transparent, sharing relevant information rather than withholding it to gain advantage. It means being open to new ideas and suggestions, and challenging outdated processes. Honesty is integrity in action: honoring your agreements, avoiding shortcuts that compromise ethics, and not lying. It means giving credit where credit is due and not stealing the credit for other’s work – or stealing anything from another person for that matter. Honesty often means giving difficult feedback or disagreeing in a way that builds rather than tears down.

You can’t have too much of any of this. Let’s keep working to build psychologically safe places to live and work.

FROM TRANSITIONS TO TRANSFORMATIONS:  Exaggerating The Essential

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My good friend Allan is currently in the hospital recovering from surgery that removed his voice box in response to a rare kind of throat cancer. He’s relying on tubes inserted into his abdomen for fluids and food. As a psychiatrist whose career relied on speaking and sharing his wisdom, his life will never be the same. (A white board that he uses for communicating displays the message in the image above.)

It is expected that he will soon find a way to communicate verbally through the amazing advances in technology. When I asked how he was without a voice, Allan wrote, “I am not frustrated with not speaking. I’ve attended fourteen silent retreats so lots of practice. They were voluntary, but I am surrendering with intention and permission to slowing down my typing and keeping things short while I’m here.” He then referred to a Vincent Van Gough quote, “I have learned to exaggerate the essential and leave the ordinary deliberately vague.”

In “The Starry Night,” the swirling sky and glowing stars were exaggerated, while the village below is rendered simple and vague, emphasizing the dreamlike, emotive qualities Van Gogh found essential. Similarly, Allan is surrounded by his faith, his perspective and approach to life, and the love of the people who care so deeply about him. He understands the vital importance of exaggerating these essentials.

Life’s interruptions – whether a health crisis, a job loss, the death of a loved one, becoming a parent, a move, a divorce – are like sudden storms that reroute even the most carefully charted journeys, forcing us out of familiar harbors into unknown seas. Navigating these transitions demands more than resilience; it calls for a willingness to let go of old certainties, embrace vulnerability, and discover new depths within ourselves. In those moments when life fractures the expected and invites us into uncertainty, we find the raw material for transformation and the unfolding of our true story.

According to Allan, “the idea of moving with transitions is to transform us into new visions of what we are now, have been, and continue to become. We then shift from transformation to transcendence and live in a new way with a vision of ourselves we never had before. Transaction to transformation to transcendence is predicated on recognizing the waves of transition that carry us from one to the other.”

Here are three essentials that Allan has reminded me to exaggerate, to turn a transition into a transformation.

  1. Acceptance. Suffering doesn’t come from life. It comes from resisting life. If you’re going to pick a fight with reality, you’re going to lose every time. Welcome the hard stuff and befriend all that it brings. In the pile of manure you will one day find a pony – if you keep digging. By meeting pain and fear with compassion and curiosity, we allow ourselves to be reshaped by the experience and discover new strengths and deeper self-understanding.
  2. Centering. To be transformed during change, it is essential to rely on something in our life that isn’t changing – a stable core from which to draw strength, clarity, and resilience. This inner sanctuary serves as a grounding point amid external turbulence and brings us into the present moment, enabling us to navigate uncertainty without losing our sense of self. By cultivating practices of reflection, self-acceptance, and emotional awareness, we create a personal anchor that supports us through the upheaval of change. Whether it’s daily prayer, meditation, or finding a sanctuary in nature, adhering to a daily practice for centering steadies us during the disorienting chaos of transition and fosters the emergence of new perspectives and renewed purpose.
  3. Community. Transitions are a lonely journey, but they can’t be done alone. Finding confidants, guides, partners, or allies to walk beside us are necessary to get us through to the other side. In a world marked by fragmentation and rapid change, it is community that weaves together what has been pulling us apart, anchoring transformation in the fabric of relationships.

Ultimately, life transitions teach us about ourselves: our capacity for adaptation, our core values, and our deepest yearnings. If we allow the pain of difficult experiences to break us open, a stronger, wiser, kinder self can emerge. The journey through change can reveal truths that were hidden when life felt certain and predictable. Transitions can illuminate new paths toward authenticity, purpose, and belonging. With patience, presence, self-compassion, and support, the uncertainty of transition is also the birth of new possibilities.

On a personal note, I, too, have had to practice exaggerating these essentials as I write my memoir this year. I’m processing the insights and healing impact that this endeavor has had on me thus far. It has been a catalyst for a significant transition as I move into the next chapter of my life. I look forward to sharing the ongoing journey with you over the coming months.