No one teaches you to lead, and that's the invitation


Salvaging a client meeting that went off the rails before it ever really got started. Delivering feedback that sounded constructive in my head but landed completely wrong. Navigating a round of business layoffs with my peers in the aftermath of COVID. Learning how to manage my first P&L. Cancelling a contentious client contract to protect the health and well-being of my team. Sitting alone in a brand new, empty office in Hong Kong, wondering "what's next?" while my HQ is asleep 12 time zones away.
Not the glamorous leadership life I had imagined, yet all of it shaped the leader I am today.
Here's what I wish someone had told me at the start: no one teaches you how to lead. And that's actually an invitation.
The narrative we inherit
In tech and innovation, the dominant leadership story is familiar. Move fast, break things, be decisive, be loud. We see it in headlines and keynotes, TV shows and movies. If you don't see yourself in that version of leadership, it can feel like you're missing the manual everyone else got.
That manual doesn't exist. Not for anyone, but especially not for women in tech.
Research backs this up in uncomfortable ways. Women hold just 28% of senior leadership roles in tech. A 2024 McKinsey report found that for every 100 men promoted to manager, only 81 women were promoted and just 54 Black women. And at a time when AI is transforming industries, a 2025 study found that when women and men use AI to produce identical work product, the women are viewed as less competent than the men. And for women navigating intersecting identities (race, culture, neurodivergence, caregiving, disability), those penalties compound in ways the leadership canon rarely acknowledges.
So if you've ever looked at the prevailing image of leadership and thought, that's not quite me, you're not alone. That feeling doesn't reflect your skills or abilities; it's a signal that the manual was written for someone else.
Tap into your values
When I first started leading, I looked for all the ways I had to change. If I were just more of this, or more of that, then I would be a leader. It took time to accept the most useful leadership advice I ever received: the thing that makes me good at my work is the same thing that makes me me.
For me, that's a genuine love of learning. My brain feels most alive when I'm pulling threads between ideas from different disciplines, testing a new framework, or digging into the nitty-gritty of how something works. Instead of trying to lead the way someone else would, I built my leadership around learning. This shows up in how I grow my own leadership practice, build teams, approach problems, and create culture.
For someone else, the anchor might be different. Maybe it's an endless curiosity that means you always ask the question no one else thought to ask. Maybe it's a precision of thought that cuts through noise and brings the clarity a room needs. Maybe it's an optimism that pulls people toward a vision they didn't know they wanted.
Whatever it is, ground your leadership in it. When it comes from what's real, it doesn't feel like performance. It just feels like work you're good at.
It took time to accept the most useful leadership advice I ever received: the thing that makes me good at my work is the same thing that makes me me.
Step into growth
It's easy to doubt yourself when you're sitting in that place just past your comfort zone. Things feel more difficult than they need to be, and even small decisions can feel overwhelming. But one day, you'll realize the thing that used to make your stomach drop is now second nature.
Growth edges are uncomfortable by design. The trick is learning to distinguish between this is hard because I'm growing and this is wrong because it isn't me. The former is worth sitting with. The latter is telling you something.
Leadership rarely unfolds in predictable steps, and growth isn't one speed. In some seasons of your life, you're inching forward, taking one deliberate step after another toward your goals. In other seasons, you're ready to take the leap and figure it out on the way down. Both are valid. Both count. The mistake is applying leaping-season energy to a consolidating season, or staying still when the cliff is right there and you're more ready than you think.
Find your collective
A lot has been written about building a personal board of directors, a group of mentors, sponsors, and advisors you tap for advice.
What I've found more powerful is a circle of inspiration. These are the people whose energy, approach, and way of working make you want to be better at yours. They come from everywhere: peers, direct reports, people three levels above you, people you've never met but whose work you come back to again and again.
I think about my former coworker who can turn even the tensest conversation into a calm resolution. My executive coach, who can reframe pretty much any challenge I tell her about into an opportunity. My chief of staff, who turns my latest ideas into action. Or even the tech leader I've never met, whose newsletter on communication I reference at least six times a week.
The point isn't formal mentorship. It's that by paying attention to what you admire in others, you start to cultivate those same qualities in yourself. Not necessarily the big-stage stuff, but the small everyday choices. You can learn what kind of leader you want to be by noticing what kind of leadership moves you.
What I wish I'd known
The magical manual never arrives. And if it did, it would be outdated tomorrow. So start with what's true about you, stay curious about the edges that lead you to growth, and choose a circle that pushes you to your full capability.
Nearly twenty years in, I'm still learning how to lead. I think that's the point.
