The Trusted Leader: The Journey Within
Milicias Beach, Ponta Delgada, Portugal (Photo by Ana-Paula Correia)
As promised, here is the second edition of the Leadership in Education and Training series.
When I first stepped into the role of director of a university research center seven years ago, I knew that leadership would demand vision, decisiveness, and strategic thinking. What I did not fully grasp at the time was that leadership, at its deepest level, is a mirror. It reveals more about who we are than about what we do.
The first few weeks in my new role were filled with budgets, meetings, and expectations. Yet amid the urgency, I sensed that the most important task was not organizational but relational. Instead of starting with structure, I started with people.
I scheduled an individual one-hour meeting with every employee in the center: project managers, coordinators, research associates, and support staff. Each conversation began with three questions sent via email before the meeting. They were:
What are your aspirations here at the center?
How do you want the center to evolve in the next few years?
How do you see your role evolving along with it?
The responses filled a notebook that became my compass. I realized that leadership is not something imposed from above but something that emerges through genuine listening. Asking, listening, and reflecting became the foundation of my philosophy of trusted leadership.
Trust Begins with Self-Knowledge
In their book The Trusted Leader, Galford and Drapeau (2002) wrote that “being a trusted leader is about knowing yourself” (p. 30). It is deceptively simple advice, yet few principles are more demanding. To know oneself as a leader is to recognize one’s motivations, biases, and limitations. It is also imperative to understand that one’s presence, not just organizational policies, shapes the emotional climate of an organization.
Self-knowledge is not self-absorption. It is not about perfection or certainty. It is about awareness; it is the quiet recognition that leadership decisions flow from an inner terrain that must be cultivated with honesty and care. As Galford and Drapeau (2002) explain, trustworthiness is a product of three qualities: credibility, reliability, and intimacy, balanced by a low degree of self-orientation. To lead with trust, we must first understand what drives us and ensure that it aligns with the good of those we serve.
During my early months as director, I came to know myself better through the act of listening. Each conversation revealed both professional goals and human needs: recognition, belonging, and growth. Leadership, I learned, is not about control but about creating conditions where others find meaning in their work.
The Daring of Listening
Trust-building begins not with charisma but with curiosity. Listening, genuinely listening, is an act of leadership. It means being open to hearing what might unsettle us. It also means suspending judgment long enough to see the world through another’s eyes.
As I filled that first notebook with handwritten notes, I began to understand the power of attention. Each dialogue became an act of mutual respect. Genuinely listening requires slowing down, which is often countercultural in academic environments obsessed with results and efficiency.
But that slowing down was efficient! Over time, decisions that could have been met with resistance were met with trust because people felt heard and valued. I had not realized it at the time. Still, by beginning with those one-on-one conversations, I was laying the foundation for a psychologically safe culture: one where ideas could be challenged without fear and where collaboration was built on mutual respect.
Trust, I learned, does not begin with grand gestures. It begins in the quiet discipline of presence. Trust is not an abstract idea; it is a feeling. It is sensed through tone, timing, and consistency. When leaders express genuine enthusiasm, people feel safe to contribute. When leaders acknowledge effort, not just success, people feel valued. When leaders handle conflict with fairness, people feel secure enough to take creative risks.
Fairness as Sustainable Trust
As the research center expanded, I faced a new challenge: maintaining fairness in recognition and celebration. With more than 50 employees, acknowledging every personal milestone became impossible without the risk of omission. What might have started as a good intention risked causing exclusion instead of fostering belonging.
The solution, though imperfect, was guided by fairness. We shifted the focus from personal milestones to collective achievements by celebrating completed projects, successful grant proposals, new publications, partnerships that furthered our shared mission, people’s commitment to professional development, presentations, and invitations to speak at professional meetings, just to mention a few. This approach not only ensured inclusivity but also reinforced a sense of collective pride. People saw themselves as part of something larger than their individual roles.
Fairness, in practice, means consistency and transparency. It is the quiet promise that decisions will not be arbitrary, that recognition will not depend on proximity or popularity, and that everyone’s contribution matters. It also means acknowledging constraints honestly and being clear about what can and cannot be done.
Galford and Drapeau (2002) remind us that fairness is one of the most visible expressions of trustworthiness. When leaders are perceived as fair, even difficult decisions are more easily accepted as credible and valid. Fairness signals that leadership is guided by integrity rather than preference.
Vulnerability and the Strength to Admit “I Do Not Know”
Another dimension of trusted leadership is vulnerability. Brené Brown, a leading voice on courage and human connection, describes vulnerability as the willingness to face uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. In her interview with Adam Grant (2021, February 23), she explains that courageous leaders show up with their whole hearts and allow themselves to be seen, even when outcomes are unpredictable. Vulnerability, she insists, is not a weakness but the foundation of authenticity and trust.
In Dare to Lead, Brown (2018) explores what this means in the context of work. She observes that organizations flourish when people feel safe enough to speak truthfully, ask for help, and admit when they do not have all the answers. A leader’s ability to say “I do not know” signals not inadequacy but integrity. It communicates humility, curiosity, and a willingness to learn alongside others.
Early in my tenure, I faced questions about the center’s long-term direction that had no simple answers. My initial instinct was to appear certain, to protect my credibility through confidence. Yet over time, I learned that genuine confidence is born from honesty. When I began to say, “I do not know, but I am committed to finding out together,” it became one of the most trust building statements I could make, as it communicates humility and integrity. It opened a space where others could contribute freely and where inquiry became a shared pursuit rather than a solitary responsibility. It turned uncertainty into a shared exploration rather than a private burden.
Brown (2012; 2018) reminds us that vulnerability humanizes authority. It replaces distance with connection and transforms hierarchy into partnership. As Galford and Drapeau (2002) observe, trusted leaders are those who create the conditions for others to think, create, and contribute fully. When a leader admits uncertainty, it signals trust in the wisdom of the group. The result is not diminished confidence but deepened credibility.
To be vulnerable in leadership is to embrace the paradox of strength and openness. It is to lead with courage rooted in truth rather than performance. When leaders choose transparency over pretense, they not only build trust but also cultivate a culture where learning and authenticity can thrive. In this sense, vulnerability is not an admission of limitation; it is an invitation to shared growth and a quiet affirmation that strength and humility can coexist within the same heart.
The Journey Within
The journey within is often portrayed as solitary, but in leadership it is profoundly relational. Self-knowledge emerges through dialogue, reflection, and shared experiences with others. Trusted leaders stand not above others but among them, aware that leadership is both a privilege and a responsibility.
After seven years, I have come to see that the most valuable lessons in leadership are not about management or strategy. They are about presence; about listening genuinely, acting with fairness, and leading from authenticity. Trust, once established, becomes the quiet rhythm of an organization. It allows people to move together with confidence and purpose. For Galford and Drapeau (2002), trust is something we continually do. Brown (2012) adds that “a leader is someone who holds themselves accountable for finding potential in people and process” (p. 185).
Leadership, then, is not defined by authority but by stewardship: of people, of purpose, and of trust.
References
Brown, B. (2012). Daring greatly: How the courage to be vulnerable transforms the way we live, love, parent, and lead. Gotham Books.
Brown, B. (2018). Dare to lead: Brave work. Tough conversations. Whole hearts. Random House.
Galford, R., & Drapeau, A. S. (2002). The Trusted Leader. The Free Press.
Grant, A. (2021, February 23). Brené Brown on What Vulnerability Isn’t (Transcript). Thinking with Adam Grant. TED
Please cite the content of this blog:
Correia, A.-P. (2025, November 24). The Trusted Leader: The Journey Within. Ana-Paula Correia’s Blog. https://www.ana-paulacorreia.com/blog/the-trusted-leader-the-journey-within