Kathryn’s promotion to vice president seated her at an executive table that operated on a set of unwritten rules. Opinions were stated loudly, interruptions were common, and leaders who paused to consider were perceived as uncertain. Her career, built on warmth and connection, seemed out of place.
So Kathryn built her armor. She practiced directness without warmth. She delivered her updates in crisp, conclusive statements and saved her questions. She stopped showing uncertainty, even when she felt it. Within six months, her peers saw her directness as confidence. They accepted her at the table.
But the change had consequences that her team noticed first. The leader who once asked what they thought now told them what she’d decided. The one who had listened to their ideas now talked about her own. Her team didn’t say anything because the results were strong, but the energy was different, and everyone could feel it.
Kathryn felt it too. She was demonstrating toughness in her leadership style yet had lost the connection and vulnerability her team thrived on. She told me she felt like two people.
I asked, “What if your vulnerability isn’t the opposite of your strength? What if it’s the source of it?”
Kathryn started making small changes. In the next executive meeting, when a proposed partnership felt rushed and the room was moving toward consensus, she said what she actually thought: “I’m not there yet.” She explained why she couldn’t support the proposal yet. Then she braced for the response.
The COO said, “You make a good point.” The CEO asked her to elaborate. The conversation changed. Not because she was the loudest voice in the room, but because she spoke with enough conviction that the room stopped to listen.
Over the following months, Kathryn found a rhythm. She didn’t abandon the directness she’d learned, but she stopped pretending it was all she had.
Each quarter, she chose two or three issues where she would be visibly, firmly positioned, and on everything else, she led the way she always had: through questions, through listening, through making people feel seen. Any dissent she expressed carried weight precisely because it was not her default.
Toughness keeps people at a distance. Vulnerability, paired with competence, draws them in.
THE QUESTION
Where in your leadership are you performing toughness when vulnerability would actually build more trust?
“When one is pretending, the entire body revolts.” — Anaïs Nin