Influential leadership is the thing I wish someone had smacked me upside the head with at 27 instead of letting me figure it out through spectacular public flame-outs.
I’m sitting here in my cramped home office in [somewhere in the US—let’s say a random mid-sized city because honestly who cares], January 2026, heat blasting because it’s 18°F outside, half-drunk black coffee going cold, staring at a Slack thread where I once again over-explained something nobody asked about. Classic me. And yet somehow people still follow me sometimes. That’s the wild part about influential leadership—it doesn’t require you to be perfect. It just requires you to be real loud and consistent about what you actually believe.
What I Used to Think Influential Leadership Looked Like
Back in like 2018 I thought influential leadership meant:
- Having the loudest voice in the Zoom
- Always having the snappiest comeback
- Wearing those stupid expensive Patagonia vests even though I hate the outdoors
- Never admitting you Googled the answer five minutes before the meeting
Spoiler: I was insufferable.
I once tried to “lead” a small team at a startup by micromanaging every Google Sheet cell color. We hit our quarterly numbers but three people quit within six weeks and one of them left me a three-page Notion page titled “Why I’m Leaving and Also Therapy Isn’t Covered Lol.” That hurt. Like, really hurt.
That was when I started realizing influential leadership has almost nothing to do with control and everything to do with connection.
The Moment I Actually Started Getting It
Summer 2022. I was consulting for this scrappy SaaS company in Austin. The founder—let’s call him Jake—was one of those classic “move fast and break things” dudes except he kept breaking people. Turnover was insane. Morale was in the gutter. I was brought in to “fix culture” (eye roll).
Instead of doing the usual workshops and values posters, I just started doing one-on-ones where I admitted my own screw-ups first. Like, full vulnerability dump:
- Yeah I once yelled at an intern because the Wi-Fi dropped during my sales pitch
- I’ve ghosted follow-up emails for weeks because I was scared of looking needy
- I still check my ex’s Instagram sometimes when I’m feeling like a failure
People started opening up. Not because I was some guru, but because I stopped pretending I had my shit together. That’s when the real influential leadership started happening—when I stopped performing “leader” and just became the guy who’s also scared but still shows up.
If you want to read more about why psychological safety is stupidly important, Google’s Project Aristotle is still the gold standard even in 2026.
My Current, Flawed Rules for Influential Leadership
These are the things I’m actually trying to live by right now (and failing at 40% of the time, probably):
- Say the thing everyone’s thinking but nobody’s saying Even if it makes you look dumb. Especially if it makes you look dumb.
- Shut the hell up sometimes I’m still bad at this. Like right now I’m writing 1,200 words when maybe 400 would’ve done the job.
- Own the mistake publicly and fast I once shipped a feature that broke our entire mobile app for 14 hours. Posted a video on our company Loom the next morning with bedhead, no script, saying “I approved this knowing the testing coverage sucked. My bad. Here’s exactly what we’re doing.” Weirdly, trust went up.
- Be okay looking uncertain “I don’t know yet, but I’m gonna figure it out and I’d love your help” is a power move in 2026. People are exhausted by fake certainty.
[Insert Image Placeholder 1] Personal-perspective shot: My actual messy desk right now—cold coffee mug with a lipstick mark (not mine), three half-dead succulents, a Post-it that says “stop doomscrolling LinkedIn,” laptop open to this very Google Doc. Slightly tilted angle like I just shoved the phone in someone’s face going “look how not-together I am.”
Influential Leadership in Regular Life (Not Just Business)
Here’s the part I didn’t expect: the same shit that works at work works at home.
I used to think I could be Mr. Take-Charge at the office and then come home and be passive-aggressive couch guy. Turns out people can smell the inconsistency from space.
Last month my partner called me out mid-argument: “You’re using your ‘leadership voice’ on me again.” Oof. Knife to the heart. She was right. I was trying to “win” instead of connect.
So now I’m practicing the same rules at home. Admitting when I’m wrong first. Asking questions instead of lecturing. Celebrating her wins like they’re mine. It’s awkward as hell sometimes. But it’s working better than the old way.
Wrapping This Rambling Mess Up
I’m still bad at it a lot of days. Today’s one of them—I’ve rewritten this post four times and I still think the third version was better. Whatever.
