The Roots of Authentic Leadership

The car engine hummed quietly beneath me, the highway stretching long and pale under the morning sky. It was 8:09 a.m., 9 May 2025—a Friday. Not my usual reflection time. But the stillness of that solo drive gave me something I hadn’t had in days:

A quiet heart. A rattled truth. A moment to feel.

Yesterday stirred me. Not in a headline-worthy way. But in a deep, dissonant way. The kind of moment that whispers: You’re drifting—and you know it.

And that’s what this reflection is about.

It’s not about publishing a book. It’s about whether I’m still willing to live one.

The Detour That Dug Deeper

It began with a trip I didn’t want to take. Samuel and I were headed to Kluang to support another international school. On paper, it was noble. In my heart? It felt like an interruption.

I was buried in unfinished work. Drowning in deadlines. Frustrated that I had to leave what felt urgent to tend to what felt… inconvenient.

But leadership rarely asks for our convenience. It calls for our conviction.

So I drove. I swallowed the frustration. And I reminded myself of a phrase I learned:

既來之，則安之 – “Since you’re here, make peace with it.”

In the car, I decided to make the drive useful. I asked Samuel to pull up our Lead to Impact book timeline—our leadership legacy project.

That’s when the soil of my heart was shaken.

We called our publisher. I asked her about the content development plan. She said, kindly but casually, “It’s all covered. We’ve got plenty from your blog posts.”

I froze.

A copywriter was assembling my scattered writings into a manuscript—with my name on the cover. Without conviction and alignment.

In that moment, something in me rebelled.

Not out of pride—but purpose.

If I let someone else shape my message for the sake of speed, what am I really publishing?

A leadership book?

Or a leadership lie?

The Temptation: Leadership by Image

There was a moment where I could have just nodded.

Let it pass.

Tick the box.

Publish the book.

Impress the audience.

But I’ve learned—often the hard way—that what you permit becomes what you promote.

If I allowed this shortcut, what message would I send to my sons? To my team? To the very readers I claim to serve?

That leadership is about looking good?

That legacy is about reusing old words with a new cover?

That’s not legacy. That’s old wine in new wineskins—repackaged truths with no living conviction. And if I’m not careful, I become the vintner of empty leadership: bottling borrowed words, selling them with polish, but lacking the ferment of lived truth.

Then the goal is to impress, not impact.

That day, I was dangerously close to becoming the kind of leader I coach others not to become: one who drifts from soul to structure. From integrity to image.

So I asked the publisher to take a pause.

Not to cancel—just to pause.

And I said this: “Before we move forward, I need to see what the writer believes. Not his grammar. His conviction. If we’re not aligned, I’ll write the whole thing myself.”

Because I’d rather publish nothing than put my name on something untrue.

The RAW Framework: Three Roots of Authentic Leadership

That moment planted something deeper. A new clarity. Not just for the book—but for my life.

I now call it RAW Leadership: Real. Aligned. Whole.

Because if leadership isn’t rooted in these three—then whatever fruit it bears won’t last.

R – Recognise It

Truth begins with tension.

• What’s bothering you beneath the surface?
• What soul-level contradiction are you ignoring?

For me:

Hearing that someone else was stitching together my story lit a fire in my gut:

“This isn’t right. This isn’t real.”

Pain often reveals purpose. That discomfort was grace.

A – Acknowledge It

Clarity exposes the cost.

• Where are you drifting from your values?
• What truth have you been avoiding because it’s inconvenient?

For me:

I saw how close I was to approving a book that didn’t reflect my life.

That’s not legacy. That’s liability.

I was about to teach authenticity without practicing it.

W – Walk It

Authenticity demands sacrifice—and consistency.

• What will you act on, even when it costs you time, comfort, reputation?
• Will your life back up your leadership?

For me:

I told the publisher, “If this book isn’t authentic, I won’t publish it.”

I asked Samuel, “If you want to be a co-author, are you willing to live this—not just write it?”

Because what we’re writing isn’t a brand—it’s a burden. A sacred one.

And sacred things must be stewarded, not outsourced.

A Leadership Life, Not Just a Leadership Book

Later that day, I picked up our coach from Senai Airport. I didn’t send a staff member. I didn’t delegate it to look “important.”

I showed up myself.

Not because I had to. But because I get to.

Leadership doesn’t lose its power when it bows low—it finds it.

I’m learning not to lead like a boss with a calendar, but like a father with a calling. A steward who protects not just results—but people. Stories. Souls.

When Samuel asked to be a co-author, I didn’t reject it. I sat with it.

Not because I doubted him, but because I needed to ask—how do you fit in?

“What kind of husband, father, and leader are you becoming? Because this book won’t hide you—it will expose you.”

If you want your name on the cover, your life must be ready for the light.

The Baby That Cried

Leadership isn’t about being fully grown.

It’s about being real.

Even babies cry when they’re hungry. That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom. Because crying invites help.

But some of us—especially as leaders—forget how to cry.

We hold the pain in. We fake strength. We starve our souls while smiling.

And slowly, we wither.

It’s better to cry honestly than to lead hypocritically.

Sometimes, you don’t need more strategy. You need more soul.

The Reverse That Exposes the Illusion

Here’s the paradox that disrupts comfort:

The opposite of leadership isn’t following.

It’s hiding.

Hiding behind titles. Behind silence. Behind “not yet.”

Real leaders don’t wait until they’re strong to move.

They move because someone has to. Even when it costs.

They write—not for convenience, but because silence feels like betrayal.

They serve—not to be seen, but because others need space to rise.

They show up—not polished, but present.

They don’t outsource their story.

They own it—pen shaking, heart wide open.

So if you feel the pull to fake it, fast-track it, or frame it for applause—

Pause.

Ask yourself:

• Is this real?
• Is this aligned?
• Is this whole?

Because when leadership is RAW—

You don’t need to impress.

You already carry weight.

And raw leadership?

It doesn’t make noise.

It makes history.