There are those leaders who always seem to say the right thing. Who never sigh, never appear uncertain, always stay calm and composed. Everything is meticulously organized, flawlessly prepared, clear, and professional.

I don’t trust them one bit.

It’s too smooth. Too neat. Unrealistic, even. As if there’s a curtain hiding where real life is happening, but as a colleague or team member, you’re not allowed behind it.

Perfection breeds disconnection. Not because people are jealous of perfection, but because it creates distance. It’s difficult to relate to. And because it paralyzes people. “If you’re so perfect, I’ll never be good enough.” It’s hard to feel connected to someone who never drops the ball. Whether it’s a mistake, a moment of doubt, a bad joke, or an off-day, it’s precisely those little rough edges that make us like someone.

Still, many leaders try to keep up that perfect image for as long as they can. The image of control, of a solid figurehead. From the outside, it might look like everything is running smoothly. But inside, it’s often a different story. An endless inner monologue: “You need to be sure before you speak.” “What if they see right through you?” “People expect you to have the full picture.” “You can’t afford to doubt.” “You’re the one who’s supposed to know. You were given this role, so you need to live up to it.” “Don’t give them a reason to question you.”

It’s the language of imposter syndrome. The quiet belief that you’re just pretending and could be exposed at any moment. So what do you do? You mask all uncertainty with control. You perfect, you plan, you work far too much. And above all, you hide how much you’re actually doubting. But in doing so, you only reinforce that one fear: that who you are isn’t enough. And ironically, the harder you work to appear credible, the less authentic you become.

People instinctively sense when something is off. And so, slowly but surely, trust begins to erode. You start trying to prove yourself and end up losing connection. With yourself, because you’re constantly showing what you think is expected of you. And with those around you, because they no longer feel who you really are.

Perfection breeds disconnection.
Not because it’s too good, but because it’s not real. Credibility doesn’t lie in being flawless, but in being authentic. In daring to say: “I don’t always know either.” In showing where you’re human, instead of the leader you think you’re supposed to be. And the moment you take the lead in being human, you invite others to do the same. Only then do you get a team where people truly dare to be seen. Where honesty is the norm. And where mistakes aren’t covered up, but put to good use.

So maybe this is the invitation:
Let go of the pursuit of perfection, just a little. Not because you’re not doing well, but because you’re doing so well, there’s room for a few loose threads.