She thought the superintendent visit was her biggest problem. She was wrong.

Most leaders think joy happens TO them. The best leaders CREATE it for everyone—even when everything's falling apart.

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"I'm very nervous... I don't know if I've done enough to be perfect."

Let's call her Sarah.

She's a first-year principal at a small school in one of the largest districts in America — over a thousand schools, 66,000+ students. And on this particular evening, she's confessing her deepest fear to a group of fellow school leaders.

Tomorrow, the superintendent is visiting her campus on the first day of school. Out of a thousand schools, he chose hers. Her data is strong — her kids "did amazingly well" and "improved in English tremendously."

But Sarah isn't celebrating. She's spiraling.

"I don't know if I've done enough to be perfect."

The superintendent visit, though, was just the surface tension. The real storm brewing inside Sarah's mind was much deeper: How do you lead when you feel like an imposter?

The Weight of Inherited Relationships

Sarah's internal struggle wasn't really about test scores or campus cleanliness. It was about a 12-year veteran assistant principal who everyone loved — including her.

"He's been there for maybe about 12 years ... People look up to him, people do things for him. So I use those skills to my advantage."

This AP was operationally brilliant. Fire drills, earthquake drills, textbooks, Chromebooks.

"You ask him to do anything... he'll jump on it and take care of it."

He even planted purple flowers (her favorite color) at the school entrance as a surprise.

But when it came to instruction? "He either shies away from it or he's late to the meetings."

Sarah found herself caught between gratitude and frustration. "I love those things, but I need you for instruction as well."

The deeper fear eating at her: "I've only been there a year ... people at the school are gonna know it's a move from me, and what do I do with all the people that like him?"

The Isolation of Leadership

Here's what Sarah was really wrestling with internally: the crushing weight of making a decision that could define her leadership — alone.

Her supervisor had already offered to move the AP: "If you want to, I can move him." But Sarah was paralyzed by self-doubt.

"I was afraid because I'm like, I don't know if I know enough about the school, given that I've only been there a year."

The internal narrative was brutal: New principal questions 12-year veteran. New principal disrupts beloved relationships. New principal fails in first year.

This is the hidden battlefield of school leadership — not the external fires you put out, but the internal voices that whisper you're not ready, not experienced enough, not worthy of the authority you've been given.

The Transformation Moment

But something shifted during that hour with her fellow leaders. When Sarah described how her AP planted flowers instead of attending an instructional meeting, one of her colleagues offered a different lens: