HAPPY Sunday, Achiever!
There’s a truth we don’t talk about in leadership circles — but we all feel it.
The invisible rankings.
The constant second-guessing.
The pressure to be more, do more, lead more… with less.
It’s the stuff that keeps you up at night.
The quiet comparisons.
The energy you pour into your school — that no one ever pours back into you.
The fear that maybe, just maybe, you’re the only one who doesn’t have it all together.
Let’s say it out loud: this role is heavy.
You shouldn’t have to carry it alone.
You sit at the principals’ cluster meeting, nodding at the right times, offering insights when asked. You’ve learned the rhythm of the room—the subtle shifts in posture when someone more “established” speaks, the glances exchanged when someone else shares an idea that falls flat. And despite your best efforts, deep down, you feel it:
You’re not in it—you’re around it.
Present, but not powerful.
Valued, but not quite visible.
You watch as Mike commands the room with quiet authority—he doesn’t need to prove anything. Jane, ever impressive, updates the group on her five advisory roles and how seamlessly her school ran while she was away at a conference. You think about your own school. You left for a day last week. Chaos.
You came back to tears.
Exhaustion.
Unspoken disappointment.
And you thought:
“Is this my fault?”
You question whether you’re cut out for this.
You wonder if your school’s behind.
If your team is missing out.
If your students are.
But your staff are already stretched.
Your energy is fraying.
And you're still expected to carry it all.
You blend in. You speak less. You tell yourself it’s safer that way.
You quietly wish someone would see the version of you behind the calm expression.
The version that’s tired of comparing.
Tired of pretending.
Tired of feeling like no matter how much you give, it’s never quite enough.
This is what no one talks about.
The cost of holding it all together while wondering if you belong.
But what if this wasn’t the whole story?
What if you didn’t have to keep doing it alone?
What if support wasn’t a weakness, but the very thing that would help you feel strong again?
This could be the turning point. ↓↓↓
