Edition 13: Brave Leadership in Health Operations

Late in 2025, I completed Brené Brown's Dare to Lead workshop alongside leaders from different organisations and industries.

By mid-morning on day one, I noticed something I recognised immediately.

On paper we were all very different. Different sectors, different roles, different contexts. But the weight we were carrying? Almost identical. Significant responsibility, limited resources, complex stakeholders, and people looking to us for steadiness in the middle of uncertainty.

And even in a room designed for learning, you could feel the invisible barrier to which we would soon learn was our armour.

What I mean by armour is this: People choosing their words carefully. Laughing things off that clearly mattered. Stepping around anything that felt too exposing.

I recognised it because I do it too.

Those two days weren't just another leadership course for me. They were a chance to hold a mirror up to the way I actually lead. In all my roles

What I came away with was this.

Health operations doesn't need more perfection from its leaders. It needs more courage, and less armour.

What brave leadership actually looks like

If you work in health operations, you don't need me to explain the pressure.

You're managing beds, budgets and staffing gaps. Navigating risk, consumer expectations and executive assurance. Responding to crises, complaints, policies and people doing their absolute best in a system that is asking a lot of them.

It is a high-accountability space. And it is also a space where a lot of leaders quietly feel alone.

Brave leadership in this context is not about heroics.

It's a series of small, honest choices made in an ordinary pressured week.

It looks like staying in a difficult conversation, about safety or performance, instead of softening the message. Naming what everyone can feel in the room but no one wants to say. Being honest about system constraints without using them as a reason to shut down ideas. Admitting when a call hasn't landed well. Keeping your humanity intact when the pressure to toughen up is loud.

Those choices are much harder to make when we're permanently armoured up.

The armour I noticed in myself

One of the most useful parts of the programme was simply sitting with the question: how do I respond when I feel exposed or out of my depth?

My armour tends to look like over-preparing to the point of exhaustion. Withdrawing when I feel judged. Trying to be the safe pair of hands who never shows doubt. And sliding into perfectionism when something really matters to me.

"Underneath that is usually a version of the same thought: 'I'm not sure I know enough to be leading this."

I know I'm not alone in that.

In services, armour shows up as defensive reactions in meetings. Gossip as well as the meeting after the meeting. Blame and quiet disengagement. Lots of talking, very little movement.

Brave leadership doesn't mean we never feel any of that.

It means we get better at noticing it, and choosing how we respond.

That starts with emotional literacy.

Emotional literacy is a leadership safety tool

Most of us grew up with a three-word emotional vocabulary. Mad, sad, glad.

In reality there's far more going on. There's a world of difference between feeling irritated, resentful, ashamed, disappointed or anxious. And our behaviour reflects that, especially under pressure.

For health leaders, this is not a soft skill. It's a safety tool.

When we can't name what we're feeling, we offload it. Through anger, avoidance, perfectionism, over-control or disconnection. When we can name it, we have a much better chance of choosing a response that actually aligns with our values.

The same applies to our teams. When someone is abrupt, withdrawn or reactive, it's rarely the whole story. There is usually something underneath. Fear. Exhaustion. Feeling unseen.

Getting curious about what's sitting under the surface is one of the quietest, bravest things you can do as a leader.

Being clear is an act of care

One idea that landed hard for me over those two days: being clear is one of the kindest things we can do.

In health we often avoid being truly clear because we're worried about being unkind.

We pad difficult feedback with vague reassurance. We hint instead of saying what needs to be said. We hope people will just get it.

The reality is that unclear feedback is far more unkind.

People leave confused, unsure what's expected, and often blaming themselves in ways we never intended. We leave feeling like we've done something. But nothing actually changes.

Brave leadership asks us to name the purpose of a conversation before we start it. Describe what we've observed rather than who we think someone is. Hold both things at once: there's a lot you do well, and there's a pattern here we need to address. Stay genuinely curious about what we might not know. And own our part in it.

When we combine clarity with care, people can hear feedback without losing their sense of worth.

That's the work.

Three small experiments to try this month

I'm not going to give you a 10-step plan.

But if you want to start somewhere, try one of these over the next few weeks.

Name one feeling a day. Once a day, pause and ask yourself: what am I actually feeling right now? Try to go beyond mad, sad, glad. Notice where it sits in your body. Notice how it's shaping your behaviour.

Have one clearer conversation. Choose a conversation you've been avoiding or softening. Prepare it with care. Be clear about why you're having it, what you've noticed, and what support you can offer. Notice what happens when you pair clarity with compassion.

Take off one piece of armour. Identify one way you typically protect yourself at work. Over-functioning. Always saying yes. Perfectionism. Experiment with something slightly different in a low-risk moment. Reflect on what it opened up.

Brave leadership in health operations won't come from another policy or another dashboard.

It will come from leaders choosing, day after day, to show up a little more human and a little less armoured. For themselves, for their teams, and for the communities they serve.

I'm still learning how to do this, imperfectly. I'll keep sharing what I notice along the way.

Because this work matters.

I'd love to hear what you think and how this shows up for you, hit reply, I'd love to hear from you