The Silence Is Why Most People Don't Get Well
One of my absolute favorite movies is The Bridges of Madison County.
If you know the story, you know it begins with a discovery. The main character's children find a collection of letters and journals she left behind after her passing. These letters document a profound, hidden chapter of her life—her connection with Clint Eastwood's character.
When her children first start reading them, they are uncomfortable. The son thinks it is too much. But the daughter has a completely different reaction. She reads her mother's words and says, "Oh my god, this is so Mom. I feel like I know her even more now."
Her mother had kept those letters. She documented what she lived, what she felt, and what she understood. And by leaving them behind, she gave her children the gift of her full truth.
This is exactly why I document what I have been through. It is why I write about what I see, what I understand, and how I live now.
Because the silence is why most people suffer. Some people don't get out of it, and some don't get well, simply because no one is talking about the reality of the experience.
In leadership, the silence is deafening.
We talk about strategies, frameworks, and key performance indicators. We talk about school improvement plans and pipeline development. But we rarely talk about the personal cost. We don't talk about the isolation. We don't talk about the moments when the picture shatters, or the exhaustion of always having to be the one holding the wall up.
Leaders suffer in silence because they believe they are the only ones struggling. They think if they admit how heavy the work actually is, it means they are unfit for the position.
But the opposite is true.
When we break the silence, we give others permission to heal. When we document our actual experiences—the failures, the fatigue, the weeping before the building—we leave a map for the leaders coming up behind us.
I don't want to leave behind a legacy of perfect, polished leadership theories. I want to leave behind letters. I want the leaders I mentor, the schools I support, and the people who read my work to say, "I feel like I know what it actually takes to lead now."
If you are suffering in silence in your leadership role, I want you to know you are not alone. You do not have to carry it by yourself. And you do not have to pretend the wall isn't heavy.
Breaking the silence of leadership is why I built The Nehemiah Principle. If you are looking for a space to do the real, internal work of leading, click here to join us.
