Get to know each person on your team and understand what makes them tick. Be clear about your expectations and the behaviours that are important to being part of the team. Ask for and give feedback regularly and, where possible, in the moment. Over time, this helps you build a reputation as a strong and trustworthy leader. Create a team culture where people feel safe, supported, and able to grow. I can often see what you haven't said, and I can hear what you haven't said. That can sometimes unsettle people, particularly those who may already feel insecure or threatened, so I have learned that how you use that awareness matters.
I am two metres tall, so I can naturally intimidate people without intending to. One of the ways I have learned to manage that is by sitting down when I speak with someone. It changes the dynamic, helps people feel more comfortable, and signals that they are in a safe space to speak openly and that they can trust me. I think emotional intelligence in leadership is the capacity to be aware of your own presence and influence, regulate and express your emotions appropriately, and build interpersonal relationships with empathy, judgement, and intention.
All decisions are emotional
Almost every business decision we make is influenced by emotion. We may believe that choice A is better than choice B, but our judgement is often shaped by how we feel, our experiences, our assumptions, and our gut instincts. That is why self-awareness is so important. We need to understand our own emotions and where they come from in order to better understand our motivations, fears, limitations, and strengths. The more aware we are of what drives us, the better equipped we are to make thoughtful decisions rather than simply reacting to how we feel in the moment.
It's OK
Why is it so hard to admit a mistake? And why does it get harder the higher up you go?
I hear a version of this in almost every coaching conversation I have with senior leaders. Not "I don't know what I got wrong," they usually know exactly. It's "I can't be the one to say it out loud." The fear is not irrational as admitting error at a senior level carries real risk to credibility, to authority, to how you are read by the people who decide what happens next. I think the cost of not admitting it doesn't disappear, it just gets paid by everyone below you, in the form of the same mistake happening again.
This is often where the work of coaching sits: not in supplying the answer, but in giving someone a confidential space to say the thing they cannot yet say in the room, and to work out what it would take to say it there. Organisations need role models who admit when they were wrong. A culture where mistakes surface openly is the only kind where innovation and creativity genuinely exist. And If mistakes do not surface, they happen again and again.
Trust the process
I spend most of my working life between two groups: internationals finding their footing in Denmark, and Danes trying to understand them. What strikes me is how often people on both sides are performing a version of themselves they think the situation requires.
I think you can begin to recognise the beliefs you have inherited from your experiences and ask: is this actually who I am, or is this what I learned I had to become in order to cope? This is where coaching can be valuable as sometimes we don't need someone to tell us what to do. We need someone who can sit with us in the uncertainty, listen without judgement, challenge the stories we have come to believe about ourselves, and help us see possibilities we could not see on our own. That is what coaching offers: a confidential space to examine your patterns, rebuild trust in your own judgement, and begin making choices aligned with your values rather than your fears.
If you are ready to start questioning what no longer serves you, let's talk. Contact me via this link to arrange a conversation.
Authenticity is not for sale
I think inclusion requires more than representation. We tell an employee or stakeholder that they are welcome, but only if they are willing to adapt themselves to look, speak, and behave like the dominant group. When belonging comes with conditions, individuals are often forced to mask their needs, suppress aspects of their identity, or change who they are simply to navigate and survive the environment.
Tonight is the night
BPoC are proud to announce that we will have Morten Meldal (Nobel Prize winner in Chemistry) joining us to share his remarkable story. A man of curiosity, humility, and extraordinary achievement. Come hear the story behind the science and the mindset behind the man.
““I want to see the world view of people who do not see the world as I do, because in that way I can better understand the world.””
Encourage individuals
I hear repeatedly from people who remain in unhealthy or toxic relationships because they have convinced themselves that this is the best they can do. Not because they are weak, but because their experiences have taught them to lower their expectations and they begin to see respect as something to be earned. Kindness becomes a luxury and boundaries feel selfish, and being mistreated becomes something they believe they have to accept. This is one of the cruelest things difficult experiences can do: they can make you question your own value rather than the behaviour of the person causing the harm. Remember learned patterns can be challenged.
Never tolerate disrespect
Trauma has a way of convincing us that disrespect and pain are the price we have to pay to feel safe, loved or accepted. I think that just because you have learned to endure something does not mean you have to keep enduring it. When your experiences tell you, over and over again, that your needs don't matter, you can begin to believe them. You may internalise the idea that your worth is conditional, that you are worthy of love, acceptance or belonging only when you stay quiet, accommodate others or tolerate more than you should. And over time, this can profoundly affect the way you see yourself and what you believe you deserve.
Disgraceful behaviour
Dr. Jason Arday’s death leaves behind not only a grieving family, but also some deeply uncomfortable questions about race, opportunity, academic hiring, accountability, and the pressure placed on Black professionals and people of colour to continually prove themselves.
We are not static
Our brains are naturally attentive to movement, change and action. Perhaps that is because humans themselves are never truly static. We are constantly learning, adapting, responding and becoming. So when we talk about ourselves, perhaps we should spend less time talking about what we do and more time talking about what we are doing.
I think there’s a subtle but important differences, for example:
- "I am a leader" tells me who you believe you are.
- "I am learning how to become a better leader" tells me that you are still moving.
- "I care about inclusion" tells me what you believe.
- "I am creating a culture where people feel safe to challenge me" tells me what you are actually doing.
What do you think?
Smart people
I think true intelligence comes from three core abilities:
Solving problems with clarity.
Adapting with grace in any situation.
Making thoughtful decisions.
As these qualities grow, so does your inner strength. Nurture them a little every day, and you will begin to see the shift within yourself.
Your pattern becomes your reputation
How do you consistently show up? In emails, in different conversations, in quiet moments when no-one is watching? What is your pattern of behaviour? What pattern are you creating? Your worth is not determined by how others have treated you. Your value is inherent and no amount of disrespect can take that away. Healing starts when you begin to challenge that voice in your head that says you are not enough. It’s a slow process, and I think every small step toward recognising your worth is a step in the right direction. You deserve people who see you, hear you and value you.
Reframing rejection
I have been rejected more times than I care to remember. At the time, each rejection felt personal. A missed opportunity, a closed door, or a conversation that simply didn't go the way I had hoped. Looking back, I see those moments differently and so can you. By reframing rejection, I have become more resilient, more self-aware, and more intentional. Each experience taught me something about timing, preparation, relationships, or simply the fact that not every opportunity is meant for me. Perhaps the greatest lesson has been learning to connect the dots.
““You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards.””
Feedback is not a threat
The experiences that once felt unrelated eventually revealed a pattern and the setbacks developed resilience. The disappointments refined my judgment, and the conversations that went nowhere often prepared me for the ones that mattered most. Rejection did not diminish my value, in reality it redirected my energy. Today, I see rejection less as a verdict and more as information. Sometimes it tells us to improve, sometimes it tells us to persevere, and sometimes it simply reminds us that the right opportunity requires the right timing. I think one has to allow rejection to shape our character without allowing it to define our worth.
Contact me via this link when you are ready to harness your resilience, set benchmarks, and turn setbacks into personal growth.
The work speaks for itself
Sometimes the most meaningful work often happens without recognition. It is built through consistency, integrity, and a willingness to show up, day after day, even when nobody is watching. Not everyone will remember your name. They may not quote you, recommend you, or speak about you publicly but they may remember how you made them think differently. They may lead with greater courage because of a conversation you had together. They may create opportunities for someone else because someone once created one for them. That is the kind of influence I aspire to have because real impact is rarely about being remembered. It is about leaving something behind that continues to make a difference. The work that stands the test of time, even when the spotlight has moved elsewhere.
““One of the biggest mistakes we make is assuming that other people think the way that we think.””
Growth changes relationships
One of the things I have learned is that boundaries rarely create problems. More often, they reveal expectations that have gone unspoken. When people have become accustomed to your constant availability, accommodation, or sacrifice, a healthy boundary can feel unfamiliar. Some will respect it immediately. Others may question it, test it, or struggle to adjust because the relationship is changing. That does not necessarily make them bad people, it simply highlights that a new pattern is being established.
Self-respect is sometimes misunderstood by those who benefited from the absence of boundaries. The real test comes not when you set the boundary, but when you maintain it with consistency. I think boundaries are not about controlling other people's behaviour, they are about communicating what you are, and are not, willing to accept. And over time, consistency transforms boundaries into trust. People begin to understand that your limits are not temporary reactions just expressions of your values. And healthy relationships do not fear boundaries, in fact, they respect them.
Same behaviour, different response
Organisations often claim to value diverse perspectives, yet those perspectives are welcomed only as long as they conform to existing norms. When they challenge established patterns of communication, hierarchy, pace, or decision-making, they are frequently labelled as confrontational, difficult, or disruptive. Through the lens of Pierre Bourdieu's concept of cultural capital, this is unsurprising. The same behaviours that are rewarded in those who already embody the dominant culture are often penalised in those whose ways of speaking, leading, or contributing fall outside it. I think what is framed as innovation in one person becomes disruption in another, not because the behaviour differs, but because the social value attached to the person expressing it does.
Competence keeps doors open
Pierre Bourdieu's concept of habitus becomes particularly useful when trying to understand why some people are welcomed into organisations but not fully accepted, why certain leadership styles are rewarded over others, and why "cultural fit" so often outweighs diversity of thought. Habitus refers to the deeply ingrained ways of being, speaking, acting, relating, and perceiving that individuals carry with them, shaped by their histories, cultures, and social positions. It influences how we communicate, how we build relationships, what we consider to be "professional," how we approach authority, and even what we believe is appropriate behaviour in the workplace.
When individuals from marginalised or non-dominant backgrounds enter professional spaces, they do not simply bring new ideas; they bring different ways of doing. They may challenge assumptions, communicate differently, build trust in different ways, or solve problems from perspectives that fall outside the organisational norm. Unfortunately, it is often this "doing" that is resisted. Organisations frequently celebrate diversity in principle while expecting conformity in practice. I think difference is only truly welcomed when it does not require the dominant culture to adapt. What do you think?
Confidence opens doors
People often notice confidence before they recognise competence, not because confidence makes you more capable, but because it encourages others to listen.
- Have you ever had an excellent idea but chosen to stay silent?
- Have you ever started speaking and suddenly lost your train of thought?
- Have you ever walked away from a conversation thinking, "That's not what I wanted to say."
If so, you're not alone as speaking with clarity is not an innate talent reserved for a fortunate few. It is a skill that can be learned, practised, and refined. I think that when you communicate with confidence and clarity, people are more likely to hear your ideas. When those ideas are backed by competence, they earn trust, influence, and respect. Your voice matters, so the question is: are you giving it the opportunity to be heard?
That is not inclusion
There is a pervasive dynamic at play when people are invited into spaces on tokenistic grounds. They are asked to attend meetings, contribute ideas, sit on panels, or join working groups, yet are rarely given the opportunity to meaningfully shape outcomes. Their presence is used as evidence of inclusion, while their influence remains carefully constrained. In these circumstances, inclusion becomes conditional, I think it’s participation without influence. You are welcome, as long as you do not challenge existing norms, question the status quo, or disrupt the prevailing way of thinking.