The Cost of Either/Or Leadership (and the Compass That Brings You Back)

A few years ago, I was sitting in a conference room where strategy was supposed to be the focus. The conversation shifted, and someone asked me point-blank:

“Do you want to be taken seriously, or do you want to be liked?”

The question landed like a trap. Authority or authenticity. Heart or ambition. Strategy or soul.

For years, I thought leadership meant choosing. I softened my words to sound palatable. I swallowed my instincts to fit louder voices. I split myself into the “professional me” and the “real me.”

That’s the myth of either/or—and it’s more common than we admit.

The Systemic Layer

False choices don’t come out of nowhere. They’re baked into the cultural conditioning we absorb from childhood.

• Boys blurting out half-formed answers in class are praised for confidence.

• Girls are told to wait, be precise, keep the peace.

• At the dinner table, brothers debate loudly while daughters are asked not to be bossy.

By the time we step into professional spaces, the rules are already written on our bodies.

And those rules aren’t neutral. A man who raises his voice in a meeting is “passionate.” A woman who does the same is “too emotional.” A father who leaves early for family is “responsible.” A mother who does the same is “less committed.”

Research confirms what many of us have felt in our bones. The likeability–competence tradeoff shows women leaders are judged on a double bind: lean into competence and you’re respected but less liked; lean into warmth and you’re liked but considered less capable.

McKinsey & LeanIn’s Women in the Workplace 2021 study found that women leaders are far more likely than men to have their judgment questioned, their tone policed, or their ideas dismissed until repeated by someone else.

Either/or. Approval or authority. Rarely both.

The Personal Cost

At first, splitting feels subtle. You soften your voice in meetings. You override your gut in favor of what sounds “data-driven.” You polish your answers until they’re technically correct but emotionally absent.

But over time, these micro-adjustments become default. You lose track of your unfiltered voice. You stop asking what you really think. You equate your worth with how well you can contort yourself to fit the room.

The cost is real—and it lands in the body first.

• Body: a jaw that never relaxes, shoulders that never drop, a nervous system on permanent alert.

• Mind: second-guessing every email, replaying every meeting, editing yourself until your words no longer sound like your own.

• Spirit: the corrosive shame that whispers maybe you really are “too much.”

Splitting may earn you a seat at the table, but if the price of admission is your wholeness, you have to ask: What exactly am I being invited into?

The Alternative

If the myth of either/or is the trap, the Integration Compass is the way out.

• Presence (Reset): Pause before you edit yourself away.

• Power (Root): Ground instead of proving.

• Purpose (Filter): Ask if you’re choosing urgency or what truly matters.

• Alignment (Check): Claim one decision each week made from wholeness.

The Compass won’t erase bias overnight. But it gives you a way not to fracture yourself in response to it. It doesn’t demand perfection. It helps you return to yourself again and again in rooms that would rather you forget.

Here’s one micro-act of compassion you can try today:

Catch the Binary.

The next time you’re about to send an email with three qualifiers—“I might be off base, but…”—pause. Delete the hedge. Write the sentence as if your clarity belongs.

Notice what happens in your body when you choose both authority and authenticity.

The Ripple

Integration isn’t only personal. It’s contagious. When you stop fracturing yourself, others feel permission to show up whole too. Your steadiness slows the room down. Your refusal to abandon yourself models a new way forward.

The myth of either/or will always whisper false choices. But the Compass is steadier. It points you home.

You don’t have to choose between being respected and being real. Between ambition and heart. Leadership isn’t about splitting yourself in two—it’s about integrating the fullness of who you are.

Comment: Where do you notice either/or showing up in your leadership?

And if this resonates, forward it to a colleague who’s tired of splitting themselves in two. We all deserve to lead whole.