The Leadership Skill No One Teaches: Own Your Sh*t

It's inevitable that somebody, somewhere, is going to misunderstand you.

They won't like your tone, the timing of your email, or your energy in a meeting.

Some will be upset you don’t set hard enough boundaries.

Others will be pissed you had any to begin with.

It’s a never-ending debate about whether you’re too much of one thing and not enough of something else.

And if you’re in a leadership role?

The odds of being a disappointment to somebody go way up.

Because people don't just react to what you say—they project their own ideas of how a “good leader” should act.

And spoiler: it’s usually a standard they don’t hold themselves to.

The truth is that most people aren't reacting to you.

They’re reacting to their idea of you.

Their idea of what a leader "should" sound like, how feedback "should" feel, and my personal favorite...

What they would’ve done in your position—with their imaginary skillset and extensive theoretical experience.

You can’t outrun it.

If you try, you’ll either burn out trying to please everyone…

Or nuke the team thread in a moment of weakness because you just couldn’t take one more spoonful of bullshit.

So, I have a proposal:

What if instead of letting people make assumptions about who you are...

You own it.

Loudly. Consistently. And without apology.

See, people don’t need you to be perfect.

They need to trust who you are and know what to expect from you.

When you show up as the person you say you are—flaws included—people learn how to work with you, not around you.

Here's what this looks like for me:

I can be a tornado.

I have enough energy for the whole company.

Luckily, my cofounder brings order to my chaos.

I’ve gotten better over the years—but mostly because the team has systems to not be blown over by me.

Like asking for deadlines.

Being empowered to tell me no.

And knowing that if I email at 10pm on a Friday or 6am on a Sunday, they don’t need to reply.

In fact, I’ll be less impressed if they do.

I don’t like open loops. They overwhelm me.

So the team knows: if you need something, just ask.

Skip the “how are you”—we both know why you’re here.

I can be a perfectionist to a level that’s… let’s just say, insufferable.

So they build drafts, submit them early, and we debrief before they build out the rest—so they don’t waste time guessing or redoing work.

The more I own who I am, where I fall short, and work with myself to better support those around me—the easier it gets for everyone involved.

That way nobody's shocked when hurricane Nat accidentally slips out.

And if the inside jokes and gentle roasting on our team are any clue, I’d like to believe it’s made them feel more empowered and a lot less stressed.

So how do you help others work with you, not around you?

Start by getting honest with yourself.

• What are your patterns, quirks, and pressure points?

• What do people consistently misunderstand about you?

• What derails your energy, focus, or clarity?

• When do you feel most overwhelmed—and what kind of support would actually help?

• What’s one thing you wish people just got about you without needing to explain it every time?

Now flip it:

• What makes you easier to work with?

• What habits or structures help you thrive?

• How do you want people to approach you with problems, feedback, or requests?

• Where do you need more support—and have you made that clear?

As you walk through this, think less about being liked and more about being understood.

Because the better people understand how you operate, the better they can engage with you.

And doing this creates the awareness—and the humility—to ask what they need from you too.

When you learn how to express yourself this way and invite it from others, you create a space where everyone gets to show up fully as themselves.

Which makes work way more fun—and misunderstandings a lot less detrimental.