The Leadership Dilemma

Here’s something I’ve been struggling with a lot recently—it’s a dilemma that’s been weighing heavily on my mind.

It’s a peculiar sensation, this feeling of being an intruder. A sense of not belonging to the space you occupy, even when you’ve earned your place there. It’s as though you’ve always stood on the periphery, observing, adjusting, and adapting—not because you must, but because something within compels you to bring about change.

And so, you start to change the world around you. The people near you, beside you, they begin to change too. They follow your lead, consciously or not. But then come those moments of doubt. You stop and ask yourself, Am I supposed to be doing this? Am I doing it right?

And the hardest question of all—What if, in trying to bring light, I’m unintentionally dimming someone else’s?

These questions? They can be relentless. And so, you pull back. You step aside, quiet yourself, and leave room for others to step forward. But instead of growth, what do you see? Chaos. The loudest, most reckless voices fill the space. Not with purpose, but with noise.

So now you’re stuck wondering: What do I do?

Do you let them have their freedom? Maybe their loudness is their way of expressing something deeper. Maybe at home, they’re told to be quiet, to stop, to shrink themselves. Maybe their chaos is a form of rebellion, their way of saying, Look at me, I’m here.

But without guidance, their freedom becomes harmful. People start to hurt. The conversations lose meaning. Respect fades, discipline dissolves, and everything starts running on autopilot. Surface-level chatter replaces meaningful connections. The jokes are constant, but nobody is really laughing.

So again, I ask: what do you do?

This, right here, is the hardest part of it all.

It hurts to see things fall apart when you step back. You don’t want to control everything, but you also can’t ignore what’s happening. You want to lead in a way that empowers others to take the reins thoughtfully, to guide themselves with purpose. But then the question comes: Who decides what’s thoughtful? Who decides what’s right?

And so, you watch. You observe. And it becomes painfully clear—when there’s no reflection, when no one stops to think about the impact of their words or actions, the result is often harm. People throw blame, spread negativity, and fill each other up with careless, thoughtless ways.

But who am I to judge?

And so, I ask you, the one reading this: what do you think we should do when faced with this challenge? Is it really so bad to take the lead, to create structure, to guide others when you have the right intentions?

Because here’s the thing. When leadership falls into the hands of someone who doesn’t reflect, who doesn’t pause to ask themselves, Am I helping? Am I inspiring?, the result is devastating. Instead of encouraging others to grow, they criticize. They say things like, “You’re not good enough,” or “You can’t.” And those words? They leave wounds that take years to heal.

So maybe the answer isn’t to shy away from leadership, but to redefine what it means to lead. To step forward not to control, but to nurture. To guide in a way that lifts others up, that helps them grow—not behind you, but beside you.

And so, I leave you with this question: What must we do, as leaders or as people, to guide responsibly? To make sure we aren’t just filling the silence with noise but creating something meaningful?