I’m sitting down to write this in a gap between jobs. The downtime is strange, like the world has stopped moving but my thoughts haven’t caught up. Other than replaying the shit that went down during the last six months – or to put it more bluntly, the reasons I left, I don’t quite know what to do with myself.

What happened wasn’t unique. And that’s the part that bothers me most. 

It’s the same stuff I hear from friends, colleagues, people I trust across the industry.

It’s the performance of ‘care’ from leadership. Saying one thing loudly and proudly, yet doing another quietly, repeatedly.

I know this is anonymous, but if you think this is about you, then I hope you do your team a favour and listen.

The things I wish I could say

You can’t fake care. People feel it. In small moments, in the gaps between your words, in the way you prioritise your business over their wellbeing. Care is a practice, not a performance. If you only care when outsiders are watching, you’re just performing. 

Communication isn’t optional or a one-way thing. Consistency and honesty build trust. Inconsistency and silence destroy it. If you communicate more externally than with your team, your culture will break down slowly over time. 

Ideas stop being shared because “what’s the point?” It’s not like you’re really listening. Meetings become quieter because speaking up feels risky. Colleagues start shrinking, not because their talent fades, but because the space to use it gets narrower.

I hope you learn that leadership is more than LinkedIn posts and conference talks. 

It’s the day-to-day choices you make when nobody’s applauding.

Burnout isn’t a sign of commitment, it’s a sign of organisational failure. If your best people are exhausted, withdrawn, or like shadows of who they once were, that’s not a resource problem. That’s a You problem.

By the time you notice a culture is broken, the damage has already been done. People have mentally checked out, or quietly left, or stayed but stopped believing.

What I hope (though I’m not holding my breath)

I hope you learn that leadership is more than LinkedIn posts and conference talks. 

It’s the day-to-day choices you make when nobody’s applauding. It’s the way you treat people when they’re tired, honest, unwell or “inconvenient”. It’s whether your words match your actions, and whether you’re brave enough to admit when they don’t.

I hope you realise that people don’t leave because they’re unwilling. They leave because you didn’t take care of them. You don’t get to call yourself “people-first” when every decision proves otherwise. 

I hope you learn that if you focus on making money instead of the team lining your pockets, you will end up with a broken team and no money.

What good leadership actually looks like

Good leadership isn’t complicated, but it is demanding. It asks more of you than your job title does. It asks for self-awareness, not slogans. It asks you to trade the armour of performance for the discomfort of being accountable.

In the end, good leadership is never proven by what you say about yourself. It’s proven by what people say when you’re not in the room.

And trust me, they’re talking.

It’s showing up before the crisis, not after. It’s noticing when someone’s energy changes and checking in, not waiting for them to break. It’s understanding the difference between being busy and being present.

It’s making decisions with people, not about them. It’s protecting your team from unnecessary chaos rather than generating it. It’s recognising that transparency isn’t a risk, but how trust stays alive.

It’s creating conditions where people want to speak — not because they’re brave, but because it’s safe. Where the loudest voices don’t automatically win.

It’s understanding that care is not soft. It’s not indulgent. It’s not a blocker to delivery. It’s the foundation that makes delivery possible. Care is the thing that keeps people willing to stay, to try, to believe. Care is taking responsibility for the things you say and do, and the culture that results in.

If you want loyalty, creativity, honesty, energy, you must earn them. You earn them by being the kind of leader whose actions make it obvious that people matter. Not because it’s good PR. Because it’s your job. And because people matter, and they deserve it.

In the end, good leadership is never proven by what you say about yourself. It’s proven by what people say when you’re not in the room.

And trust me, they’re talking.

I’ve given you too much of my time, attention and energy in 2025. So in 2026, I plan to do the opposite and not give you any more.