Self-Awareness X

You thought self-awareness was about journaling? Try marriage, confrontation, and leadership under fire. The opposite of self-awareness isn’t ignorance. It’s projection. This one’s raw, real, and razor-sharp—built from durian ambushes, emotional email wars, and leadership with scars.

The Opposite of Self-Awareness Isn’t Ignorance. It’s Projection.

The Assumption That Hijacks Everything

It started with durian.

No, really. I walked out of the room expecting to hear the sounds of piano practice or Bahasa Melayu revision with my son—but instead, someone “broke” into our house with durian. That unexpected fruit ambush made me drop everything, end my meeting, and just be present with my family.

Later that night, I realized something: That’s how assumptions work. They hijack our reactions. We act on what we think is happening, not what actually is. Sometimes it’s durian. Sometimes it’s a misread email. Often, it’s a human being we’ve completely misunderstood.

We all carry mental short-cuts—heuristics. But when left unchecked, they become the silent architects of misjudgment. And in leadership, misjudgment doesn’t just cost time. It costs trust.

Harvard research shows over 60% of people-related leadership decisions are made on instinct—not on data or meaningful conversations. Worse, nearly 40% of those decisions are later reversed when deeper context emerges. So what does that say about how we lead?

The challenge isn’t just to challenge others’ assumptions—but to challenge our own. Because when we confuse our past wounds for present truth, or when we parent, lead, or confront from unresolved emotion, we don’t lead with clarity—we project with fear.

When Emotion Becomes a System Flaw

It’s not the big blow-ups that sabotage leadership—it’s the subtle projections. The times we mistake hurt for disrespect, silence for betrayal, or withdrawal for laziness. I’ll be honest: leadership, these days, feels more like emotional agility than strategy.

My wife is expecting our fourth child. I’ve had to adjust not just my schedule, but my mindset. I now ask, “Am I being present—or just physically nearby?”

Simple decisions—like bringing her supplements, coming home early, or truly listening—took me 10 years to master. And even now, I still miss it sometimes.

But the more urgent tests came disguised as confrontation.

Like the recent email from a foreign parent. It was long, emotional, and CC’d to nearly every department—Finance, HR, Admissions, and me. The content? Hurt, disappointment, and finally, a demand for a full refund. My initial response was guilt. What did we do wrong?

Upon investigation, I saw the pattern. Their child had a history of bullying. The family they were close to sent a near-identical email, also demanding a refund. What’s worse? The very behavior they condemned in others—they tolerated, even defended, in their own.

做贼喊抓贼.

The thief shouting to catch the thief.

I’ve seen this before. A few years ago, a staff member who clearly didn’t align with our direction sat across from me and said—multiple times—“Your company is going to fall.” He was leaving, and he wanted to leave his mark with words soaked in bitterness. I remember telling him gently, “If it does happen, I trust God will have something for me to learn from it.”

It wasn’t about being right or defensive. It was about refusing to let someone else’s projection become my narrative.

Leadership isn’t about perfect perception. It’s about emotional anchoring. The ability to stay rooted when others are flailing. The ability to lead—even when misunderstood.

Because the most dangerous leader isn’t the ignorant one.

It’s the one who projects their fear as truth—and calls it leadership.

From Observation to Ownership

Most people think self-awareness is about introspection. But introspection without observation is delusion.

True self-awareness comes from seeing others clearly first.

There’s a model I’ve come to love and teach internally: the Input–State–Output Loop—what I now call The Clarity Circuit.

  • Input: Core values, personality, and beliefs. These are stable—formed through upbringing, faith, culture.
  • State: Our current emotional, physical, and spiritual condition. These shift based on life stage, stress, sleep, even diet.
  • Output: Performance, loyalty, attitude, communication.

What most leaders do? Judge the output. Dismiss the difficult staff. React to the parent complaint. Fire the under-performer.

But great leaders? They investigate the input. They observe the state. They trace the root—not just react to the fruit.

Take Wells Fargo. To meet sales quotas, thousands of employees opened millions of fake accounts. Why? Not because they were unethical, but because leadership equated performance with alignment. They didn’t question the system driving that output.

Or Satya Nadella—who, in 2014, told women in tech not to ask for raises. The backlash was immediate. But instead of defending himself, he admitted he was wrong. He publicly owned his blind spot, then took action. Within 4 years, Microsoft saw a 35% increase in female leadership. By 2022, their market cap had tripled.

That’s The Clarity Circuit in motion.

And if you need one more gut-punch: 95% of people think they’re self-aware.

Research shows only 10–15% actually are.

That means most of us are projecting—not perceiving.

And when we project our fears onto others, we often miss the root cause of their behavior—and our own.

Becoming the Leader Who Doesn’t Flinch

My greatest leadership training didn’t happen in meetings. It happened in marriage.

There, I couldn’t perform. Couldn’t delegate. Couldn’t hide behind a role. Marriage revealed my true posture—especially when things got hard. When my wife was emotionally overwhelmed, could I hold space without fixing? Could I stay present without preaching?

Being the “head of the house” isn’t about control. It’s about calm. Emotional leadership means I must go first—not in certainty, but in humility.

I remember someone once said: “The first 7 years of marriage were good. But the next 7? That’s when greatness began.”

Now, in year 10—with baby number four on the way—I’m learning that leadership isn’t about sleepless nights or structured plans. It’s about navigating storms with someone. Not managing them. Moving forward while carrying peace.

And I want to bring that same energy into how I lead my teams, respond to critics, or hold space for growth—even when it’s messy.

There’s a tool in organizational psychology called the Johari Window—a grid that shows what we know, what others know, and our blind spots.

The scariest box?

The one others see—but we don’t.

That’s where our assumptions live.

That’s where projection hides.

That’s where culture erodes.

That’s also where legacy begins—if we have the courage to look.

Because sometimes the bravest leadership move is to say, “Maybe I got it wrong.” And still show up anyway.

The Reverse That Redefines It All

The opposite of self-awareness isn’t ignorance.

It’s projection.

Ignorance can be educated. Projection must be dismantled.

Projection is when you believe the story in your head so deeply that you stop listening to what’s in front of you.

You start attacking people who trigger your wounds.

You assign intentions they never had.

You shut down conversations before they even begin.

But true leadership doesn’t flinch when it’s wrong.

It doesn’t defend ego over truth.

It listens. Learns. Listens again. Then leads.

I used to think self-awareness was about journaling in solitude.

Now I know:

It’s about how you handle disruption.

It’s about how you interpret disappointment.

It’s about whether you see clearly—not just inwardly, but relationally.

Because you can’t change what you refuse to observe.

And you can’t transform what you keep projecting onto others.

So maybe—what we’ve called self-awareness… isn’t self-awareness at all.
Maybe Self-Awareness X is the counterfeit—the confident projection we mistake for clarity.

And true self-awareness?
It starts where projection ends.
It begins the moment we admit, “I might be wrong.”

It’s not the final level.
It’s the first invitation.

The start of seeing what you’ve refused to see all along.

And the courage to change—before the cost is too high.