I thought I was mentoring her. I was wrong. She ended up mentoring me in ways I never imagined.”
A few years ago, she walked into my team — a young professional, full of curiosity, unshaken confidence, and a spark that couldn’t be missed. She was assigned to me as a junior team member, and like any seasoned leader, I took it upon myself to guide her, shape her career, and offer my mentorship.
I had been in the game for decades. Led multi-million-dollar programs. Built and transformed teams globally. I knew what leadership looked like. Or so I thought.
But she was different.
The first time I noticed it was in a high-stakes meeting. I laid out a strategy — one I was confident about. The room nodded in agreement, as they often did. But she didn’t. She hesitated. Then she spoke.
“I see where you’re going, but… have we considered this other angle?”
Silence.
I looked at her, slightly taken aback. It wasn’t defiance — it was clarity. She wasn’t challenging me; she was thinking differently. And the more I listened, the more I realized — she was absolutely right.
That moment cracked something in me.
In the months that followed, I watched her stumble, learn, and rise. She took ownership of high-pressure deliverables without flinching. She made decisions with conviction, even when she second-guessed herself later. And most strikingly — she never sought validation.
But the day that broke me — and rebuilt me — was when a major project we entrusted her with failed. I knew she had done everything right, but the outcome was beyond her control.
I expected her to be demoralized. To shy away. To avoid my gaze.
Instead, she walked into my office and said —
“I know I failed. But thank you for trusting me enough to let me lead it.”
I froze.
Here I was — the leader, the mentor, the seasoned executive — thinking I was empowering her. But in that moment, I realized the truth:
She was empowering me.
She was teaching me the hardest part of leadership — letting go.
Letting go of the need to control outcomes.
Letting go of the urge to protect my team from failure.
Letting go of the belief that leadership is about having answers.
Instead, she showed me that true leadership is about creating space — space for others to take the lead, make mistakes, and grow from it.
And on the day she left my team to pursue something bigger, she said:
“I’ll always remember how you let me fail. Because that’s when I learned to lead.”
What she didn’t know was — I’ll always remember how she made me let go. Because that’s when I learned to lead differently.
And perhaps the most ironic part of leadership is this — sometimes the ones we think we’re teaching, end up teaching us what leadership truly means.
To all the incredible women who have shaped my leadership journey — your brilliance continues to inspire me every day.
