Why Titles Don’t Grant Authority

A woman standing in a boardroom. Around her are empty chairs, papers on the table, but she is barefoot with her feet firmly rooted to the ground, symbolizing authority that comes from within, not from the title.

I remember standing at the head of a long mahogany table, every chair filled. My name was on the agenda. My business card said I was in charge. On paper, I had the authority.

The room was quiet in that expectant way that feels heavy instead of calm. Pens hovered, eyes fixed, waiting for me to set the tone. I smoothed the edges of my papers, lifted my chin, adjusted my posture, all tiny rehearsed signals meant to say, I’ve got this.

But inside, my chest fluttered like a trapped bird. My mind raced ahead, editing my words before they even left my mouth. My hands wanted to tremble, so I locked them together under the table. My own voice carried across the room, steady and clear, but it felt detached, like it belonged to someone else.

On the outside, I looked every inch the leader the title promised. On the inside, I felt small, fragile, and one question away from unraveling.

That was when it landed: a title can give you access, but it cannot give you authority.

The Myth of External Power

For years, I believed power was something you earned by looking the part. If you were polished enough, prepared enough, composed enough, people would take you seriously.