What makes someone a good leader?
I used to think I knew the answer. Then I spent enough time being led to realise how differently leadership can feel from the other side.
I have worked with very different kinds of leaders throughout my career.
Some relied heavily on their position. They controlled details that did not really need controlling, expected respect because they were in charge, or passed responsibility down when things went wrong. Others used hierarchy or compensation to make people feel they owed the organisation more.
Early in my career, I learned that having authority over people is not the same as earning their respect.
One of my former managers once told me:
“It’s not because you are the boss that people will respect you. That is something you have to earn.”
I understood that differently when I eventually became a manager myself.
The first time I managed a large team, I had nearly twenty people under me, including two direct reports who were older than I was. I had also joined the team after them, so having the title did not suddenly make me feel like I knew how to lead.
Over time, I realised that the leaders I remember most are not necessarily the ones who made me feel the most comfortable. Some pushed me far beyond my comfort zone. I had to present more, work extensively in English, manage at a higher level, and take on responsibilities I did not initially feel ready for.
At the time, I did not always understand why they pushed so hard.
Looking back, I am grateful.
Those experiences expanded what I was capable of, gave me skills I might not have developed on my own, and eventually opened doors to opportunities I would not have been ready for before.
But I have also experienced another kind of leadership.
The kind that gives you room to work, takes the time to teach you, trusts you with things beyond your immediate role, and stands behind you when things get difficult.
That experience taught me something equally important: people do not only grow because someone pushes them. Sometimes they grow because someone gives them enough trust and space to try.
These experiences made me realise that there is no single way to lead someone. Sometimes people need to be challenged. Sometimes they need support. Sometimes they need direction. And sometimes, they simply need room.
Years later, I found myself on the other side of that relationship.
I had people reporting to me, many of them younger and earlier in their careers. And I started asking myself a different question.
What do I actually want for these people?
I don’t want them to become versions of me. I want them to grow up well.
That might mean becoming ambitious and taking on bigger responsibilities. It might also mean choosing a quieter life if that is what makes them happy.
I want them to become capable enough to make their own decisions, confident enough to stand on their own, and thoughtful enough to understand what they actually want. That also means respecting the parts of their lives that are not mine to manage.
I respect people’s personal space because I want the same in return. Caring about the people you lead does not mean having access to every part of their lives.
And I am still learning what this means from the person who leads me today.
My own manager continues to challenge me and often sees capabilities in me that I have not fully recognised myself. Working with someone who holds high expectations of me reminds me that I am still growing, even while I am helping others grow.
Perhaps that is what makes leadership interesting to me. I am still being led, while learning how to lead others.
You can see someone’s potential, but you cannot decide what they should do with it.
You can push someone, but you cannot define what success should look like for them.
You can protect someone, but you cannot walk their path for them.
You can teach them, but eventually, they have to find their own way.
Maybe leadership is not about being needed. Maybe it is about helping people become capable enough to stand on their own, while knowing they can still come to you when they need someone in their corner.
Years from now, I don’t know what the people I lead will remember about working with me.
I only hope that, in some small way, they grew into better versions of themselves because we crossed paths.
