Some leaders are born. Others are forged. Not in the comfort of corner offices or in the soft glow of startup success—but in the fire. In the friction. In the moment when the plan crumbles, the path disappears, and all that remains is the question: “Now what?”
That’s where the real leaders rise.
Struggle is the unsung strategist. It doesn’t ask for permission. It doesn’t schedule itself neatly into Q3. It kicks down the door, dumps the table, and forces you to build something stronger from the wreckage. And when you do—when you scrape together your purpose from the pieces—you emerge not just as a leader, but as a transformational force.
I’ve shared stages with CEOs, creatives, and culture-shifters. I’ve seen the ones with the cleanest resumes fall apart under pressure. But the ones who dance with the disaster, who embrace what I call “successful failure,” they don’t just survive—they redefine what success even means.
They don’t run from adversity. They run with it.
See, the most powerful leaders aren’t afraid to bleed in boardrooms. They aren’t afraid to bring their whole story—the messy, magnificent, miraculous truth of their journey—into their leadership. Because they know the very thing that broke them is also what built them. And that story? That’s their superpower.
Struggle teaches what no MBA program can. It teaches humility. It teaches resilience. It demands authenticity and rewards it with unshakable influence. You learn how to listen louder, speak softer, and lead deeper. You learn that strength isn’t about pretending you have all the answers—it’s about daring to ask the right questions. The hard ones. The human ones.
You learn that when everything feels like it’s falling apart, it might actually be falling into place.
In my world as a Grammy-nominated spoken word poet and one of the most inspiring keynote speakers for corporations and communities alike, I use story as strategy. Because when leaders speak with the vulnerability of their valleys, they elevate their teams to the mountaintop. That’s what separates the manager from the motivational force, the strategist from the storyteller, the status quo from the soulful shift.
If you’re in the middle of the fire right now—good. That means something powerful is being formed. Keep showing up. Keep standing tall, even if your knees shake. Because your strength doesn’t start when the storm ends. It starts when you stop hiding from it.
And one day, you’ll look back and realize the struggle didn’t just shape you—it introduced you to the strongest, boldest, most breathtaking version of yourself.
That’s not just leadership. That’s legacy.
