Reader, just because you can, should you?

Many coaching conversations begin with a focused challenge. As if there is a magic wand that needs a quick spin and then everything will be right again.

Unfortunately, this is not how it works.

More often than not, I will redirect and ask for introspection.

The challenge you bring to the conversation is usually a symptom. It is the accumulation of stories you have told yourself, conversations you have avoided, expectations you have accepted, and relationships you have been navigating.

The real question is always the same:

What is really stirring the water?

Here is an example.

My husband was recently asked to serve as chair of our local school board for the next three years. It was certainly flattering and a meaningful acknowledgment of his commitment to the community.

But underneath the excitement was an underlying angst.

So, I got curious and started asking questions.

My husband is a pleaser. He is someone who is deeply committed, reliable, and willing to step in when he sees a need. Given the dynamics and tenure of the other board members, he seemed like an obvious choice.

So, he initially said yes.

Then I asked him a simple question:

“Do you think this new role would play to your inherent strengths and passions?”

Without hesitation, he responded:

“No.”

Isn't that interesting?

Sometimes we know the answer immediately. We simply don't give ourselves permission to honor it.

So I asked:

“Then, why would you do it?”

Now we were getting to the real conversation.

There were many reasons why he should say yes. The community needed someone. Others believed in him. He was capable. He could certainly learn the skills required.

But being capable of doing something does not always mean it is where you are meant to contribute.

He loves partnering with others, brainstorming solutions, engaging with the community, and thinking strategically about curriculum and possibilities.

He also knows himself. He needs time to process information and ideas. His greatest strengths are not quick responses, navigating political minefields in real time, or weighing multiple competing agendas without preparation.

Could he learn those skills? Absolutely.

Is he dedicated? Without question.

But did the idea fill him with energy, positivity, and excitement?

No.

And there was something else he noticed: a physical heaviness when he imagined stepping into the role.

I encouraged him to listen to that - not as judgment, but as information. To sit with it overnight.

(And remember, he is a processor!)

The next morning, the answer was clear.

And the heaviness was gone.

“I will offer to be vice-chair, support the work, and unapologetically own my strengths.”

That is leadership.

Not always stepping into the role you are offered.

Not always proving you can do something.

Sometimes leadership is having the courage to recognize what aligns with who you are and where you bring your greatest value.

It takes bravery to admit what you need and who you are at your core.

As you inspect your own life and how you spend your time, ask yourself:

How much of what you are doing comes from true alignment?

And how much comes from obligation, expectation, or fear?

Our minds are incredibly good at explaining why we should do something.

Our bodies are often the first to tell us when we are out of alignment.

Pay attention to the heaviness.
Pay attention to the energy.
Pay attention to what brings you alive.

Leadership isn't about becoming who others need you to be.

It is about having the courage to become more fully yourself.

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