The Power of Connection Isn't Soft. It's Strategic.
- Jul 11
- 4 min read
The week I delivered my speech on loneliness, something shifted—not just in me, but in the room. After weeks of preparing, researching, and structuring each phrase to land with precision, I stood on stage and told the truth: that the most capable people often feel the most unseen.
And the moment I named it, the room exhaled. People came up to me afterward and said, “That’s exactly what I’ve been feeling.” They didn’t need a tool. They needed permission.
That’s the power of connection.
Not as a feel-good bonus. Not as an HR talking point. But as a strategic imperative—for leadership, for performance, and for the lives we’re building under the surface of our roles.
We’ve been taught to admire autonomy. To chase competence. To stay sharp, be efficient, and lead with strength. And for the women I work with—especially those navigating multiple cultures and expectations—that’s become second nature. Keep it moving. Don’t show too much. Deliver, no matter the cost.
But here’s what’s getting lost: the very thing that makes leadership sustainable isn’t perfection—it’s presence.
Presence in a hallway conversation. Presence when someone’s energy shifts. Presence that notices, “She hasn’t spoken in two meetings,” or “He hasn’t smiled in days.” That kind of leadership isn’t loud, but it leaves a mark. And it builds something stronger than buy-in: it builds trust.
I see it in team coaching sessions. The moment someone pauses, breathes, and names what’s real in the room—the tension breaks. The energy resets. Alignment starts. Not because of the content. Because of the connection.
Let me be clear: this is not about being emotional at work. This is about being awake. If your goal is performance, innovation, or growth, then connection isn’t a side dish—it’s the engine.
Because here’s what the research shows. When people feel connected:
Performance rises
Retention increases
Collaboration improves
Resilience builds
And when they don’t? They disengage, even if they don’t quit. They operate on autopilot. They start to wonder if they’re just another tool in the machine.
Connection reverses that.
In a recent session with a senior executive, I asked her, “Who do you go to when you're not performing? Who checks in on you, not for output—but for you?” She went quiet. She said, “I’m always the one holding everyone else. I didn’t realize how long it’s been since someone held me.”
That’s not just her story. That’s the story of so many women leading across systems that value what you do but ignore who you are.
And here's the turning point: connection is not just something we long for—it’s something we can create. On purpose. In how we show up. In what we prioritize. In how we build our culture.
I’ve seen women shift their entire leadership brand by making connection a consistent behavior, not a nice-to-have.
It looks like:
Taking two minutes before a meeting to ask how someone’s really doing—and listening past the first answer.
Remembering who’s caring for a parent, navigating divorce, or launching something scary.
Sending a voice note instead of a text—because tone matters.
Choosing to pause instead of push when the room feels tense.
And no, this doesn’t slow things down. It clears the static. It creates the safety that speeds up alignment. It shifts culture from transactional to human—which, by the way, is where real performance lives.
But let me also say this: you don’t need to wait for your team or your company to change. You can start. You can model it. And you’ll see the shift ripple.
Because when we show up differently, people don’t just notice—they respond.
The most connected teams aren’t the ones with the most extroverts. They’re the ones with leaders who pay attention. Who model presence. Who normalize kindness. Who build rituals of care into the everyday.
And for the women reading this who have led their entire careers without being truly seen, I want to tell you this: it is not weak to want connection. It is not indulgent. It is not off-brand. It is how you build leadership that lasts.
We cannot pour from isolation. We cannot lead from depletion. And we cannot ask others to be engaged if we’re checked out from ourselves.
So this week, I want you to take the risk of presence. The risk of noticing. The risk of being a little more human—even if the system around you hasn’t caught up.
Start small. Reach out to the person who’s been distant. Ask the better question. Make space for someone’s full answer.
And if you’re the one who needs it—say so. You deserve connection, too.
This is what I believe: great leadership isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about creating the kind of space where people feel safe enough to ask real questions. About themselves. About the work. About what really matters.
Let’s stop chasing connection like it’s a reward and start practicing it like it’s essential.
Because it is.
If this resonated, forward it to a colleague you trust.Or better—send that one message you’ve been meaning to send.
That’s where it starts.



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