We’ve been sold a narrow definition of leadership, but modeling matters in defining its true essence.
We picture the CEO at the head of the boardroom table. The person who commands attention, delivers bullet points with polish, and holds the corner office key. We imagine leadership as loud, official, maybe even a little intimidating.
But that’s not the whole story.
Some of the most important decisions I’ve ever made–the ones that shaped my values, changed the course of my family, and redefined what I believed about myself–didn’t happen in a boardroom. They happened around the kitchen table.
Leadership, for me, didn’t start with a title. It started with a high chair, a sink full of dishes, and a hundred tiny choices about who I wanted to be, how I wanted to show up, and what kind of example I was setting.
That’s what I call Kitchen Table Leadership.
It’s the kind of leadership that doesn’t always get recognized–but absolutely counts.
It’s leadership that happens in the quiet moments, the unseen acts, the conversations no one records, it’s about modeling, not managing. And it’s about realizing you don’t need a job title to be a leader–you just need to show up, consistently, as someone worth following.
You Don’t Need a Title to Be a Leader
Here’s the truth: Leadership is not something you wait to be given. It’s something you decide to live.
You can be leading without ever being called a leader. And too often, we miss that. Especially as women, as caregivers, as people who are busy holding a hundred things together–we tend to disqualify ourselves from the word leader unless someone hands it to us.
But leadership isn’t reserved for people with corner offices or fancy credentials. It doesn’t require permission; It starts when you start living by example.
It shows up when you advocate for your child at school. When you speak up in a meeting–not to dominate, but to contribute meaningfully. When you stay grounded during a family crisis, or take the first step toward change in your own life even when it’s scary.
That’s leadership.
It’s choosing courage, consistency, and care–often without recognition or applause.
But here’s the thing: Just because no one’s clapping doesn’t mean it doesn’t count.
In fact, that’s the kind of leadership that often matters most.
Modeling Matters More Than Managing
I’ve come to believe that modeling matters more than managing.
I recently watched a TED Talk by Drew Dudley called Everyday Leadership, and I found myself nodding the entire time. He tells this story about something he calls a “lollipop moment”–a small, playful gesture he made during college that ended up having a life-changing impact on someone else. The incredible part? He didn’t even remember doing it. But the person on the receiving end never forgot.
What I love about Drew’s story is that it highlights something I deeply believe: leadership is about how you show up, not what you’re called.
It’s not always the big, showy moments that matter most. It’s the small, consistent ones. The ones that happen in kitchens, in carpools, in the quiet corners of life.
That’s modeling.
And it’s what I see happening every day around kitchen tables–parents showing patience when they could explode. Friends listening without trying to fix. Coworkers making space for someone else’s idea, even if it means stepping back.
We don’t always stop to celebrate those moments. But they’re real. And they’re powerful.
Leadership Happens in the Moments No One Sees
We tend to glamorize leadership. We think it’s supposed to look like big decisions, huge risks, viral impact.
But most of the leadership that’s truly changed me? It wasn’t dramatic; It wasn’t public.
It was the mom who checked in on me after a tough day, even though she had a million things going on, it was the teacher who saw potential I didn’t see in myself, it was the friend who showed up with a meal when I had the flu.
None of them would’ve called themselves leaders. And yet they led.
We need to start calling this what it is.
Because the longer we keep defining leadership by titles and stages, the more people will shrink back, thinking they don’t belong in the conversation.
But they do.
You do.
Whether you’re leading a business or a book club… parenting toddlers or teenagers… navigating a team or just trying to be a better version of yourself—you are leading.
And we need more people to own that. To realize the impact they already have. To stop waiting for permission and start naming the quiet influence they bring to the people around them.
The Kitchen Table Is a Leadership Table
When I think about the decisions that shaped my life—adopting my children, summiting Kilimanjaro, starting my business—they all began with conversations at the kitchen table.
Not with a press release.
Not with a polished plan.
But with real, raw, messy, human moments.
That’s where values get clarified, that’s where courage starts to grow, that’s where the hardest and best parts of leadership are lived.
And while the world keeps telling us to aim for the boardroom, I think we need to look a little closer to home.
Leadership doesn’t have to be lofty.
It can look like keeping your word. Admitting when you’re wrong. Choosing patience when you’re exhausted. Showing up with love, even when it’s hard.
That kind of leadership doesn’t always get celebrated. But it should.
What About You?
Think about your own kitchen table, literal or metaphorical.
Who’s watching how you show up?
Who’s learning from the way you handle pressure, extend grace, or take the next brave step?
You don’t need a title to lead.
You just need to live with intention.
So the next time you find yourself doubting whether you’re a leader, pause and look around.
Chances are, someone already sees you as one.
Now it’s your turn to believe it too.
Leadership isn’t a title.
It’s a way of being.
And the world doesn’t need more people performing leadership.
It needs more people practicing it.
At the kitchen table. In the grocery store. On the sidelines. In the boardroom. Wherever you are.
Because the way you live is the way you lead.
And someone is watching. Learning. Growing all because of you.
