Unmasking Your True Self

As a senior leader in training and development, I’ve faced something many people in this industry grapple with: impostor syndrome. It’s that persistent voice inside your head that says your insights don’t matter, you’re not qualified for your role, and you’re not good enough—not for the job or, really, anything else. For years, I believed my perspective wasn’t important enough to share and that I wasn’t making an impact.

Feelings of self-doubt, especially when leading change or cultural growth, are more common than you think.

Self-doubt

For many years, I stayed within the confines of my comfort zone at work at Johnsonville Sausage. I observed the organization’s dynamics, quietly noticing areas where the company could improve its culture or impress the importance of its values. Although I was keenly aware of concerns or potential solutions, I kept my influence and feedback limited to small-group or one-on-one conversations.

That tactic—guiding others through individual discussions—became a key part of my leadership style. I took pride in being a person who could help someone else improve their behaviors, but I often kept my thoughts private, fearing that the company would resist or dismiss my larger criticisms or ideas for widespread improvements.

As I reflect on what stood in my way or was the basis for my fear, I realize it was me and no one else. In fact, I had many people encourage me to share my thoughts more broadly and tell me that I had a great way of communicating with team members.

The fear stemmed from my inner voice, the voice of impostor syndrome, which told me I wasn’t qualified to speak on a larger scale. I questioned whether I was the right person to lead cultural conversations or influence company policy. However, over time, I realized that my hesitation was limiting my potential and the impact I could have on the organization. To truly lead, I had to push past self-imposed boundaries.

Finding my voice

A key component of Johnsonville’s cultural foundation is the principle of “Love Your Neighbor.” It means that individuals should care about other employees’ success and help them realize their full potential. Our CEO had just shared thoughts around the concept, and I heard many of our team members express that they really did not understand what “Love Your Neighbor” meant or how it applied to them.

But to me, that value was the heartbeat of our culture. After the CEO’s talk, I was in one of our manufacturing breakrooms, having a conversation with a couple of team members about the principle, and I shared how I thought we could apply it at Johnsonville. During our conversation, I saw the light bulb go on in their eyes. They said, “I never thought about it that way. That makes so much sense.”

As senior director of learning and culture, I wanted to address the topic with all 700 of my direct reports. I felt compelled to share the difference between being nice to your neighbor and loving your neighbor.

I decided to take a leap and send an email. The message was simple but heartfelt: I thanked staff for their hard work, shared what I thought about “Love Your Neighbor,” and encouraged them to think about how to embody the principle in their own roles. I explicitly asked employees to model ideal behaviors and foster an environment in which all individuals support each other’s growth.

When I pressed Send, I experienced a mix of excitement and fear. I had no idea how the recipients would interpret it. And, as expected, feedback was mixed. One person mentioned in a survey that my message made him uncomfortable when I spoke about love. His comment fed my self-doubt and made me question whether I had gone too far.

Then something unexpected happened. I received an email from Alex, a member of the team who was initially too intimidated to open the email because it was from someone at my level. He shared that, one year ago, he would never have thought himself “worthy” to read a message from a senior leader at Johnsonville.

However, based on our interactions, because of our connection, and due to how I had taken the time to talk to him personally, Alex chose to read my email. He thanked me for sharing my perspective, explaining that my words resonated with him and inspired him to think more deeply about the organization’s cultural values. He encouraged me to send such messages more frequently.

After that conversation with Alex, I realized that, just like me, many people suffer from impostor syndrome and question their worth and their ability to contribute. I learned that my voice does matter. My perspective is valuable, and there are people waiting to hear it.

Better, confident leadership

Alex’s feedback ignited something within me. It became clear that my voice had the potential to inspire change—not just in small-group or in-person conversations, but company-wide. I began sending monthly leadership messages to all 4,000 Johnsonville team members. Each missive included a personal experience, an observation, or a discussion I had that connected to the organization’s core values and cultural behaviors.

The emails weren’t just about sharing my thoughts; they were about fostering a shared dialogue. I invited my colleagues to reflect on how they, too, could contribute to making Johnsonville a better place. I used myself as an example, acknowledging my struggles with modeling the behaviors and how continuing to work on them enabled me to more effectively lead.

The response was overwhelming. Each month, I received replies from team members across the world, sharing how my message affected them. One leader even began to share my notes in their team meetings, and some employees printed the emails and pinned them in Johnsonville facilities as reminders of shared cultural values.

Storytelling—sharing personal experiences and lessons learned—is a powerful leadership and coaching tool, a way to reinforce the behaviors the company wants team members to exemplify and fuel cultural growth. The impact of my monthly leadership thoughts exceeded anything I had imagined. What started as a simple email to share my perspective became a catalyst for deep cultural reflection and conversation. The messages helped me become a better coach, a more effective leader, and, ultimately, a better person.

A call to action

If you’re reading this and thinking, “I could never do this. No one would listen,” I completely understand. I’ve been there. Impostor syndrome has a way of making you feel small and telling you that your voice doesn’t matter or that you’re not capable of influencing others.

To anyone who’s struggling with self-doubt: Trust yourself. Your voice is valuable, and it’s time to start sharing it. Lead with courage and notice the difference you make. The insights and experiences that you bring to the table are unique, and they have the potential to influence those around you in ways you may not even realize. Choose to be intentional about the shadow you cast rather than leaving it to chance.

I’ve learned that leadership isn’t about having all the answers—it’s about being willing to share your perspective and create a space for others to reflect and grow. A personal mantra that has guided me throughout my life is this: “I am responsible for how my life turns out. I am responsible for my happiness, my relationships, my success—everything is in my hands. I can influence and create my life the way I want it to be. I just have to take responsibility and have the courage to make it happen.”

Lead with courage

Impostor syndrome can feel like a barrier, especially for those of us in leadership roles. It’s easy to doubt your abilities, to question whether you’re the right person to lead. But by embracing vulnerability and staying true to your values, you can break through self-doubt and become the leader you were meant to be. Your leadership has the potential to inspire those around you and shape your organization’s culture.

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