The Inner Work of Personal Change - Who you are is how you lead.
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It can feel almost impossible to be at ease and peaceful in the extraordinary times we live in. This tension between the speed of external change and the slowness of inner transformation creates a pressure that many leaders I meet quietly carry. This article explores the often-overlooked inner dimension of leadership: the personal transformation required to lead from the inside out.
“When you are easeful, you are peaceful, and then you can be sure to be useful.”
- Jivan Mukta
If you’ve ever struggled with the tension between who you are and who your role demands you to be, this is an invitation to pause and look inward. Change, especially deep, personal change, is one of the most difficult experiences for humans. It unsettles our self-view, disrupts established routines, and confronts the brain that craves continuity, safety and certainty.
“This is just who I am” may be one of the most reassuring, yet limiting and even dangerous statements we can make about ourselves. It is often mistaken for self-awareness. In holding on to a fixed identity, we mistake comfort for truth and familiarity for authenticity. The past locks us into a way of being, even as the future invites us to evolve. That phrase, “I’ve always been like this,” often carries a quiet mix of pride and helplessness. It points to the enduring pull of old patterns that persist in shaping our worldview and sense of self as adults.
Are you the same person you were as a child?
Whatever your answer, the opposite is also true. Research shows that our bodies constantly renew themselves, replacing about 330 billion cells daily. Almost every cell in our body will be different in just a few months. Yet despite this continuous physical renewal, we often feel a deep, stable sense of self stretching back to childhood.
In my work with leaders, I often witness the fundamental tension between the desire to grow and the need to be accepted just as we are. The Paradoxical Theory of Change suggests that growth begins when we fully accept ourselves. True change doesn’t start with effort but with permission—to be seen and valued as we are while also understanding that we must be evolving.
On the same day, two clients voiced the same quiet truth:
“I’ve always known this is a problem… but I don’t believe I could ever change it. This is who I am.”
They spoke from a place many of us know intimately: the space between ideal intent (who I want to be) and reality (who others experience me to be). These were not people lacking awareness. They had heard the feedback. They had done the thinking. They could name the problem. They knew it would be good for them to change. But they feared something fundamental would be lost.
“If I stop being direct—even though I know I often hurt others—I’ll lose my edge.”
“If I let go of perfectionism, I’ll disappoint. I’ve always been the one who delivers.”
This is what makes change so difficult: the resistance often isn’t about willingness, but about the perceived cost of letting go of something that once made them effective, respected, or safe.
The space of transformation
In the past, I often dismissed the caterpillar-butterfly metaphor as overly poetic and overused in leadership development. Only later did I learn how biologically brutal and accurate it really is.
Scientific American describes the process this way: to become a butterfly, the caterpillar must first digest itself. The old form dissolves into biological soup. And yet, within that dissolution, imaginal cells—a small group of cells that carry the blueprint for the butterfly—survive and reorganise the being into something new.
Real transformation is rarely smooth or graceful with humans as well. It is a process that humbles us. It often begins with confusion, a breakdown of what once defined us, the very beliefs we once swore by. Many leaders take initial steps toward change, only to retreat when the unfamiliar feels too risky. The in-between—the space where the old self dissolves and the new one hasn’t yet formed—is profoundly unsettling.
While change can sometimes begin with bold action, it more often starts with a quiet, honest reflection:
What part of me still believes I need this behaviour to stay safe?
When that question is met with honesty and self-compassion, something unlocks.
Walking Yourself Through Change: A Practical Reflection
When leaders come to coaching, they want results. Over time, I’ve learned that clarifying whether they truly want change and what kind is essential. Otherwise, as Robert Kegan wisely put it, I risk becoming “good company for the wrong journey”.
There is no better way to describe the inner work of change than walking you through a reflective practice.
Change often begins with a wish..
1. Tell me about the change you want? (Visualisation)
- Imagine the change you deeply desire.
- What are you doing differently?
- What has changed in your body, mind, and relationships?
Notice: Are you moving away from something (stress), or toward something (peace)? Understanding whether your change is driven by avoidance (urgency) or aspiration (direction) can help you choose the right strategies.
2. What is the current reality? (Change Discrepancy)
Now let’s gently and without judgment explore the gap between that future vision and your present reality. What’s happening today that stands in contrast to the change you want?
3. Why Now? (Timing)
- What’s making this change feel urgent now?
- Is the pressure internal or external, or both?
Understanding timing matters because it holds emotional weight and reveals your readiness.
4. Do You Believe You Can Change? (Self-Efficacy)
- On a scale from 1 to 10, how confident are you in your ability to make this change?
- What past experiences—no matter how small—can remind you that you’re capable of succeeding?
5. Is This Change Truly Yours? (Motivation and Control)
- Is this change important to you, or is it someone else’s expectation?
- Does the process and the outcome fully depend on you? Who else needs to be reckoned with —whether because of their influence, support, or resistance? Would making this change create tension with them?
- What parts of your environment or system might quietly or loudly pull you
6. Where Does This Sit Among Your Priorities? (Other Commitments)
- In the context of everything you carry right now, where does this desired change rank?
- What conversations need to happen—for help, alignment, permission?
7. What Might You Lose? (Cost of Change)
Every meaningful change comes with a cost.
- What might you need to let go of to make the change?
- Who might feel threatened, disappointed, or confused by your change?
8. What will stay the same?
Stability anchors courage. Knowing what endures allows you to take risks from solid ground.
9. Understanding Old Strategies
Sustainable change takes more than new goals or tools—it calls for understanding the early adaptive strategies that shaped who we believe we are. These patterns once helped us belong, succeed, or stay safe. Bringing them into awareness with compassion allows their grip to soften.
You don’t need to dig endlessly into your childhood. As Gestalt therapists say, "You do not need to tell me about your childhood, it lives in your present."
- How does my current behavior actually make sense?
- What need was it meeting when it first appeared? Who, directly or indirectly, taught me that I had to show up this way to be loved, accepted, or safe?
- What am I gaining by not changing?
10. Contaminated self-talk - those inner narratives that reinforce the patterns
- Whose voice is that, really?
- How old is that story?
- What is it protecting you from?
Growth Can’t Be Rushed
Client: “Do you think I can make this change in five sessions?”
Me: “How long have you had this behaviour?”
Client: “About 40 years.”
We both laugh—because we know how absurd the question is.
But that shared laughter often marks an important shift: from unrealistic expectations to a more honest commitment to the process. Beneath the question lies something deeply human—the longing for swift change, for relief from the discomfort and vulnerability that transformation requires.
Leaders are often under pressure, internally or externally, to change quickly. However, one of the most demanding parts of our work is being patient and compassionate and teaching the client to be so too. Nikos Kazantzakis, in Zorba the Greek, tells the story of a boy who, eager to see a butterfly emerge, warms its cocoon to speed up the process. The butterfly comes out too soon—its wings still crumpled, unable to fly. In his impatience, the boy kills what he hoped to help.
Deep transformation defies deadlines.
The Leadership Work No One Sees
The greatest shifts in leadership often begin in places no one else can see—in the quiet decision to stop pretending, to examine old stories and to start unhooking from praise and criticism. These inner work shapes everything else: how you make decisions, how you handle conflict, how you show up under pressure.
If your current way of leading was formed to keep you safe or accepted, the question isn’t “Is it working?” but rather “Until when?”
It’s whether you dare to grow before it stops working.
A quote often attributed to Darwin reminds us:
“It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change.”
Butterfly picture at the top by Aarn Giri - Unsplash
