I’m here to cheer on You - the Visionary, the Humanitarian, the Empath. I want you to start, to lead, to succeed. I want more people like You to make it, because it’s unfair that so many who don’t deserve to win - do. Until… they don’t.
There’s a particular ache that comes from watching a place unravel after you’ve left it.
A place where you gave too much, stayed too long, tried to fix what wasn’t yours to fix.
Where you worked for someone else’s success - someone who didn’t deserve it.
You stayed quiet out of loyalty, self-preservation, or that tiny hope that maybe things would change if you just held on a bit longer.
But you finally leave. And later - months, maybe years later - the cracks widen. The façade collapses. And you’re left watching from a distance, feeling everything all at once: heartbreak, relief, fury, vindication…
When Good People Are Led Badly
The company I left was full of bright, brilliant people. Talented, passionate, deeply committed to the mission.
But it was led by an individual who didn’t know how to lead.
I watched this person make impulsive, ego-driven decisions while building their little empire of yes-men.
“Leaders” like this wear their titles like armour, make decisions based on ego and optics, not wisdom or care.
These are people who reward loyalty to themselves rather than service to the team, and see questions as threats.
They would rather silence the voices that challenge them than listen and adapt.
I stayed longer than I should have. I convinced myself that I was the problem.
That I just didn’t understand the politics. That I was too “emotional” or not “strategic” enough.
That’s the thing about toxic leadership – it doesn’t just make you miserable; it makes you question your own worth.
And for a while, I let that self-doubt sink in. I convinced myself I needed to be more resilient, more adaptable, more like them.
Then, one day, the rug was pulled. Entire teams were cut without warning, decisions made on a whim, no consultation, no real strategy, just a phone call one evening telling me it was decided and I needed to deliver the news.
I tried to advocate for my team, to suggest ways they could be redeployed or better utilised.
But the reaction was always the same – dismissive, patronising, and somehow twisted into proof that I “didn’t understand how business works.”
That’s when I knew I couldn’t do it anymore.
When the Cracks Became a Collapse
I joined the company because I believed in its mission. I believed in making a positive impact, in building something meaningful, in supporting a transition to a better, more sustainable world. But over time, it became clear that values were just words on a website, not guiding principles.
Deals were struck with little regard for ethics, and the pressure to prioritise short-term wins over long-term integrity was constant.
It was a place where image mattered more than impact, where the right thing to do was often the last thing considered.
And then, the inevitable happened. The façade couldn’t hold.
The place I once believed in fell apart, its foundations rotted by ego and mismanagement.
And I felt… everything. Relief, heartbreak for the people I knew who lost their jobs overnight, anger, and that small, private clarity: this wasn’t a good company undone by misfortune.
This was a fragile structure built on fragile egos.
Leadership Is Not a Performance
We need to stop mistaking confidence for competence. Charisma for character. Vision for values.
Real leadership isn’t flashy. It doesn’t grandstand. It doesn’t need constant validation.
It listens. It adapts. It creates the conditions for others to thrive – and then gets out of the way.
I’ve worked with “leaders” who never once asked how their teams were coping.
Who saw questions as threats and blamed junior staff when their own ideas fell flat.
And I’ve worked with quiet leaders, too – the ones who keep things humane, who build trust in small, consistent ways.
Those quiet leaders are why anything still functions.
To Those Still Inside
If you’re still in a place like that – where the wrong people have power, and the right people are burning out – I see you.
You’re probably tired. You’re probably doubting yourself. You’re probably wondering if it’s you.
It’s not.
If your integrity is making you feel like an outsider, that’s not a sign you’re in the wrong career.
It’s a sign you’re in the wrong room.
And if you’re not ready (or able) to leave, that’s OK.
Just don’t numb yourself. Don’t assimilate. Don’t forget who you are.
Remember that the system is broken, not you.
Redefine Leadership
We don’t need more performative leaders. We don’t need more loud visionaries who can’t listen.
We need people who are brave enough to say “I don’t know.”
People who make space for others to speak. People who are more interested in being useful than being impressive.
Real leadership means:
- Taking responsibility when things go wrong
- Building people, not just plans
- Having hard conversations without cruelty
- Admitting when you’re out of your depth
- Leading with clarity, not control
- Choosing long-term trust over short-term optics
How to Lead Differently (Right Now)
You don’t need a promotion to lead. You don’t need permission. You don’t need a fancy job title.
If you want to lead with integrity, start here:
- Ask Better Questions: Be curious about what your colleagues need, not just what they deliver.
- Say What You See: Don’t enable dysfunction through silence. Speak truth, even gently.
- Back Up Your Values: Don’t just believe in empathy – build it into your processes.
- Set Boundaries: Show others it’s possible to care and protect your energy.
- Make Space: Let others speak. Pass the mic. Uplift without centring yourself.
- Practice Courage: Quietly, consistently. It adds up.
To the Quiet Ones
If you’re the one who checks in on others, who names the elephant in the room, who leads with care even when it’s not rewarded – you’re already doing it.
You’re already part of the change.
I wrote this because I know how lonely it can feel. I know what it’s like to wonder if empathy and ethics even belong in leadership.
They do. They always did. They just haven’t been given the spotlight.
But that’s changing. Slowly. Through people like you.
Keep going. Keep choosing to show up differently. Keep redefining what strong looks like.
You don’t need to burn yourself out to make a difference. Just don’t give up your softness for their comfort.
When the story of this decade is told, let them say that while others clung to power, you built something better.
What’s your story of toxic leadership? How else do you show up as an Ethical Leader?
Ika’s Inklings 
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