A reflection on leadership, approval, and learning to lead from the right place

There was a season early in my leadership journey when I lost myself.

At the time, I didn’t realize that’s what was happening. I would’ve told you I was just trying to learn, grow, and find my footing. But looking back, I can see it more clearly now.

It happened early in my tenure as a senior pastor, shortly after we planted our church. I was longing for acceptance and assurance from my peers — leaders I respected, leaders I wanted to learn from, leaders I hoped would see something in me.

It didn’t come easily.

More often than not, I found myself on the outside looking in. Hoping to be included, but not invited. Invited, but feeling like the fifth wheel once I arrived. Always aware of where I stood — or where I thought I stood — in the room.

And slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifted.

I began striving to be who I thought everyone else wanted me to be. I adjusted my tone. I second-guessed my instincts. I tried to fit into molds that weren’t mine to carry. In the process, I lost sight of my purpose and who God had actually called me to be.

It was painful.
But it was also formative.

Because that season taught me a leadership lesson I’ve carried ever since: when approval becomes the focus, identity quietly erodes.

When Attention Is Misplaced

What I didn’t realize at the time was that my attention was aimed at the wrong target.

I wasn’t driven by arrogance or ego. I was driven by insecurity — by a need to be liked, to belong, to feel validated in the space I had been called to lead.

And when that becomes the driver, leadership suffers.

When identity is unclear, leaders begin managing perception instead of responsibility. Clarity gets softened. Hard conversations get delayed. Decisions get filtered through how they might be received rather than whether they’re right.

Leadership becomes exhausting — not because the work is too hard, but because it’s being carried from the wrong place.

That lesson isn’t unique to ministry.

The context for me happened to be pastoral leadership, but the dynamic shows up everywhere — in boardrooms, project teams, startups, and organizations of every kind. Wherever leaders feel pressure to prove they belong, the same temptation exists: to lead for approval rather than from conviction.

A Needed Reorientation

I’m grateful for that season now, as uncomfortable as it was, because it eventually forced a shift.

At some point, I realized I couldn’t keep chasing acceptance without losing myself entirely. So I stopped trying to appease the masses and refocused my energy on doing what I knew I was called to do — faithfully, consistently, and to the best of my ability.

When that shift happened, things began to change.

My decision-making became clearer.
My leadership became more courageous.
My consistency improved.

Not because I suddenly became fearless — but because I was no longer trying to impress people to earn a seat at a table. I stopped mimicking and started leading. I stopped trying to force myself into spaces that required me to be someone else.

Identity realigned.
Leadership followed.

Scripture Brings the Question Into Focus

The apostle Paul names this tension with striking clarity in his letter to the Galatians:

“For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”
Galatians 1:10 (ESV)

Paul isn’t rejecting people.
He’s clarifying allegiance.

He understands something leaders often learn the hard way: when too many voices define us, conviction weakens. And when conviction weakens, leadership loses its footing.

Care for people is essential.
But people were never meant to be the source of a leader’s identity.

Courage Comes First

One of the most helpful leadership insights I’ve come back to over the years comes from Brené Brown. In Daring Greatly, she reminds us that courage precedes confidence.

Not the other way around.

Waiting to feel confident before acting is a trap — especially for leaders. Confidence doesn’t arrive first; it’s built through courageous action taken while uncertainty is still present.

That was true for me.

Clarity didn’t come before courage. Courage came first — the courage to stop performing, to stop proving, and to start leading from a settled place.

And as courage took root, confidence followed naturally.

Identity Before Influence

Here’s what I know now that I didn’t know then:

What you lead from matters more than how many people you lead.

If approval is the driver, leadership becomes fragile.
If insecurity is underneath it all, influence feels unstable.

But when identity is anchored — not in performance, not in popularity, not in perception — leadership carries a different weight. A steadier presence. A quieter confidence.

Not because everything is easy.
But because leadership is no longer divided.

A Question Worth Sitting With

So here’s the question I’ve been sitting with this week — and maybe it’s one worth sitting with too:

Are you leading from conviction — or from the need to be approved?

Not to judge yourself.
Not to fix everything overnight.

Just to notice.

Because leadership clarity doesn’t start with influence.
It starts with identity.

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