From Guilt-absorption to Victimhood to Freedom
It’s been a week.
In between facilitating an energising strategy and team connection session with a group of emerging young leaders and navigating some tough workforce matters, something dropped into my inbox that threw me off balance.
It was emotive. Personal. Triggering.
Ten years ago, my reaction would have gone something like this:
⚠️ Racing heart.
⚠️ Rising anxiety.
⚠️ Avoidance.
⚠️ A big bag of sour cream and chives chips opened for comfort.
⚠️ Withdrawal. Silence.
⚠️ A long run to clear my head.
And, maybe days before I could return to the matter at hand. Only those closest to me would’ve noticed and asked gently, “Are you okay? What happened?” But otherwise, I’d have kept it in.
Fast forward to June 2025. The response was very different. Before I explain how and why, let’s zoom out.
The wider world of victimhood and freedom
This week the world saw two very public stories about identity, victimhood and breaking free.
First, the tragic irony of a military superpower using the excuse of perpetual victimhood to launch what they boldly called a “pre-emptive strike” on a sovereign state — as if a history of mislabelled grievance justified fresh violence against innocent people, families, children. That’s like me walking down the street, seeing someone glance sideways at me... and punching them pre-emptively because they might do something bad. Absurd.
Second, South Africa’s cricket team were crowned new World Test Champions. For 27 years, they’d been labelled chokers, mocked for failing in big finals. Their captain had faced bullying, harassment, belittlement, shame. The whole team told they didn’t deserve to even be in the final, let alone win.
And yet, this weekend — they beat the mighty Australians. Clinically. Resoundingly.
So what does this have to do with the email in my inbox?
Everything.
2025’s response — my response — was different:
I waited until nothing urgent pressed on me before opening it.
I read it with as much objectivity as I could muster.
I felt the familiar stir of anxiety... but it passed, quicker than before.
I reached out to the one person I trust. With my heart.
And then I carried on. With my day, including a scheduled midday run.
No chips. No hiding. No silence. No spiralling. (Okay — heart rate did rise… but that was from the running 😋.)
The run: A reflection on growth
As I ran, I reflected: What’s changed in me?
It wasn't just age or time. Partly, it’s growth. Ten years of stretching, stumbling, learning. But partly, it’s context.
Because while my inbox carried discomfort… elsewhere in the world, real suffering unfolds. Innocent families bombed out of greed, malice and power. Hardworking people crushed by systems built to favour the few. Real people manipulated by the greed of the powerful.
No — my moment of turmoil didn’t deserve the drama I once gave it.
And then this surfaced: the journey of leadership growth I’ve walked.
Once, I became consumed by guilt — and I owned it (or maybe it owned me?). All of it. Too much of it. Because conflict-avoidance makes you accept what others throw at you — even when it’s not yours to carry.
But growth — slow, grinding growth — taught me to filter:
What’s mine to own?
What’s theirs to carry?
What belongs to God?
I learned to apologise where I should. To let go where I must. To speak when silence was betrayal. And, ironically, the session I ran with the group of young leaders over the weekend covered conflict resolution and accountability. Yes, me. The one who hates conflict.
We explored what the Prophet Muhammed ﷺ taught about handling differences. We recalled Umar ibn Al-Khattab’s (RA) famous words: “Hold yourself to account before you are held to account.”
And Qur’an 42:10: “In whatever you differ, the decision belongs to God. Such is God, my Lord, in Whom I trust and to Whom I turn.”
It struck me how far I’ve come and how far I had to go.
Why this matters for leadership — and for life
Leaders are human first. Leaders cannot afford to be prisoners of their past — or captives of someone else’s story. If we live trapped in either perpetual guilt or perpetual victimhood, we are not free. And we lead from fear, not clarity.
When we use the past to manipulate the present, that’s not leadership — that’s control.
But when we rise — like South Africa’s cricketers... like anyone who dares to break the old labels — we lead from freedom.
Leadership will always test you:
✅ The inbox moment.
✅ The old conflict resurfacing.
✅ The fear of being seen as “the bad one” again.
But freedom comes when you face it all — account honestly for what’s yours — and leave the rest to The Almighty.
It’s the only way to lead without bitterness. Without manipulation. Without dragging old ghosts into new rooms. And yes, this work is emotional.
This week I was reminded:
👉🏽 Leadership is less about control… and more about release.
👉🏽 Own what’s yours. Let go of what isn’t.
👉🏽 Trust the ultimate Judge with what remains.
That’s the way of Prophetic leadership. That’s freedom. That’s strength.
Final thought: What's yours to carry?
So here’s the quiet, unglamorous work of leadership:
Facing your past without being defined by it.
Owning your faults without being crushed by them.
Holding yourself to account — before the world (or the Hereafter) does.
South Africa’s cricketers broke a label. People are standing up to break centuries of injustice. And in a quiet, unseen way — you and I are doing the same.
One. Moment. At. A. Time.
👣 What about you?
❓ What conflict are you avoiding?
❓ What old label do you need to break?
❓ And what small act of real leadership — of courage — can you take this week?
If this stirred something, share it. Someone else might need permission to rise, too.
