Consigliere

We all know her; she positively glows in the limelight.  She can’t wait to get in front of the group, completely energized by the thought of being “on”. By day her schedule regularly includes travel to shake hands and kiss babies; few know she’s up nights worrying about hitting the numbers. She’s the last person I want to be, and up until as recently as last week, the person I thought I had to be if I want to reach my full potential.

 

I’m seeing things differently these days, thanks to some enlightening training and a relevant piece, courtesy of Fast Company, asking the question "What if second became the new first in leadership?"  You mean I can still be an ambitious and courageous leader as someone’s number two?

Contrary to popular belief, great leaders are not well-rounded.  They all possess their own unique mix of strengths.  Strengths, for the purposes of leadership, are defined as activities that energize us; we’re good at them AND we like them. The best number ones know they can’t be great at everything.  They enjoy spending their time in the spotlight, revel in being where the buck stops, and surround themselves with a team of skilled advisors; equally solid and respected leaders possessing complementary strengths.

Yet it can be hard sometimes, when you know you’re smart and capable enough to be number one, to accept that you’re really happier as a number two. We’re a society conditioning ourselves to question whether something is wrong if we aren’t striving to be first.  We’re all supposed to want to keep climbing, until we can’t climb anymore. We don’t’ drop out; we go until we’re taken out. But does every person who secures the top spot really enjoy it?  I’m beginning to wonder.

I used to look at the rung above the one I stood on at any given moment and think, I need to take another step because there is something up there that scares me, and I need to prove I’m capable of conquering it. It didn’t matter whether I thought I would like the next role, it was all about demonstrating I could do it.

Now I look at the next rung and ask myself if what’s required of the role energizes me or deflates me.  Will I spend the majority of my time doing what I love?  Can I remain my authentic self or will I need to become an actress to pull it off?

 

Not only do I not need to pursue it, I’ve got no business being number one. I’d just be getting in the way of those besotted baby kissers who can’t wait to get on it and are far better at it than I am.  Besides, who will think big picture, shape the future and make a difference for those around her?

Atlas is shrugging. Who knew it would feel so good to grant myself permission to be myself?