I don’t have all the answers. I second-guess myself more than I should. There are moments when I walk into a meeting knowing everyone expects clarity, only to realize that I’m still piecing it together. For a long time, I thought that meant I was doing something wrong.

If I’m being honest, there are days that I describe my leadership style as a “hot mess express.” Days that are chaotic, unscripted and overloaded, when the demands of construction administration pile up, deadlines collide and everything feels like it’s happening at once. Add to that the reality of being an aging woman whose hormones are doing unpredictable things (I promise I won’t go into details on that), but I will say this: the brain fog is real, and it’s not always easy to push through.

I have had days in the last month when I’ve walked into a small group meeting, a group I trust and feel comfortable being real with, and told them, plainly, that I’m struggling. Their first reaction is usually to poke a little fun at me (which, honestly, I deserve), but then something else happens; they step in. They pick up the conversation, carry the meeting forward and support each other in a way that reminds me this isn’t all on me. 

That experience has also made me more aware of my own patterns. I’ve realized that Tuesdays, for whatever reason, are consistently harder days for me, and that’s exactly when these check-ins were scheduled. I made the conscious decision to adjust the meeting to a different day. Yes, my team showed up for me, but they also deserve the best version of me in return.

This reflection has also been a reminder to me that leadership isn’t about having everything under control. One of my favorite leaders to follow, Simon Sinek, put it simply: “Leadership is not about being in charge. It’s about taking care of those in your charge.” 

As I’m realizing, sometimes taking care of your team means being honest about your limits and being open to adjusting when things aren’t working. Also, trusting that people around me can step up, too. 

So, when I add that all up, how does it equal being a perfect leader?

By the dictionary definition of perfection, it doesn’t! But I think that’s the point. The version of leadership that we were taught to model growing up — the be calm, be certain and always be in control model — doesn’t exist in the reality of life or at least not my life. What does exist for me is showing up anyway, in that imperfect state. Making the best decisions I can with incomplete information presented to me and supporting my team even on the days when I feel stretched thin myself. 

Despite my messy days, the work still gets done and the projects move forward but, more importantly, my team continues to grow.

The more I lean into that vulnerability, the more I see how it connects with the people I lead. They don’t expect me to have everything figured out, and I don’t need to pretend to be what I’m not. They want honesty and the context of the situation. They want to understand why decisions are being made and in what direction things are headed, even if my answer is “We’re still figuring it out.” I’ve noticed that the more real I am with them, the more engaged they become. 

I am also learning that trust doesn’t come from having all the answers. It comes from being willing to say, “Here’s what I know, here’s what I don’t, and here’s what we’re going to do next.” It comes from staying steady even when things are chaotic and feel messy. Choosing clarity and progress over control and perfection is critical. 

One of the biggest shifts for me was realizing that even on the days when I don’t have it all together, I still have something to give. I can still mentor and listen. I can create that space for someone else to grow, to think through a problem and to move their work forward. Just as I have learned to meet them where they are at, being open allows them to meet me where I am in that moment. 

I am learning that leadership doesn’t disappear on the hard days; it only looks a little less polished. 

So maybe at the end of the day, the goal was never to be the leader we were taught to be — always calm, certain and in control. Maybe it was to be imperfectly perfect. And maybe that’s exactly what makes me the perfect leader — the kind of leader people need.