Vulnerability vs Fake-it Till You Make-it
Vulnerability, Trust, and Leadership: Why I Refuse to “Fake It” and Why You Should Too
There’s a culture out there—especially in business and social media—that promotes this idea of “fake it till you make it.” You know the one: picture-perfect posts, relentless positivity, the flawless facade that makes people believe everything is always going your way. At first glance, it seems harmless. After all, who doesn’t want to look strong and successful? But through the hard knocks of life, leadership, and lifting, I’ve learned that real strength comes from showing up as you are, not as you think people want you to be.
Let’s clarify something critical here: vulnerability, in the way I use it, is not about positioning yourself as a victim or seeking validation through hardship. This isn’t the culture of “victimhood,” where people angle for points by outdoing each other in struggle. Vulnerability in leadership is something entirely different; it’s an act of courage and strength, a willingness to share the unfiltered reality to build trust. And that trust comes not from seeking sympathy but from fostering an honest connection. To do this effectively, there’s an order to things. Aristotle had it right: ethos, pathos, logos. In leadership, you need credibility (ethos) first before people will believe in the emotional reality you’re sharing (pathos).
When you constantly project success, never admitting to failure or struggle, you’re not building trust—you’re building a wall. One that keeps others from truly connecting with you. And more importantly, it keeps you from connecting with yourself. Because deep down, you know it’s not the truth.
One of the things I’ve seen time and time again is that when you lead with vulnerability, when you acknowledge where you are—whether it’s in the pit of failure or on the peak of success—you’re doing something much more powerful than just sharing your story. You’re creating space for others to be real with themselves. When people see you standing there, raw and unfiltered, they realize they don’t have to hide either. And that’s where trust is born.
Building Trust Through Vulnerability
I’ve spent years as a leader—building businesses, lifting, navigating relationships—and I’ve come to understand that credibility isn’t built through perfection; it’s built through authenticity. When I admit to my team that I don’t have all the answers or when I share with my social media followers that I’ve had a rough day, I’m not showing weakness. I’m showing the truth of leadership, which is messy, complicated, and constantly evolving.
In The Eagle and the Dragon, I share a pivotal moment when everything seemed to be crashing down. I was in my mid-thirties, running a company that was collapsing around me, Boeing executives breathing down my neck, and on top of that, dealing with surgeries that threatened my career as a strength athlete. I could have pretended everything was fine, “faked it” to look strong in front of my team. But that’s not who I am. Instead, I chose to be real. I acknowledged the mess, and in doing so, I showed my team it was okay to struggle. They didn’t need to pretend either. That honesty built more trust than any front of invincibility ever could.
Brené Brown talks about this in Dare to Lead. Vulnerability isn’t about oversharing or exposing yourself for the sake of it. It’s about connecting on a human level. It’s saying, “Here’s where I’m at, but here’s where I’m going.” It’s acknowledging the reality of where you stand, without bending the truth to meet someone else’s expectations. And in doing that, you invite others to walk the journey with you, to buy into the vision—not because it’s perfect, but because it’s real.
The Pit and the Peak: Growth Through Failure
In my Endless Evolution framework, I talk about the cycle of growth as a series of phases: Precipice, Plunge, Pit, Pull, Peak, and Plateau. The pit—the place where things fall apart—is where real growth happens. It’s where you confront the raw reality of failure, not as the end of something, but as the birthplace of the next iteration of yourself. Too often, people avoid showing this part of their journey. They want to skip straight to the peak, the highlight reel, the success story. But without the pit, there is no peak.
When I share my failures openly—whether in business, in lifting, or in my personal life—it’s not about dwelling on the negative. It’s about showing that failure is a natural part of the process. That it’s not something to hide or be ashamed of, but rather something to embrace. As I write in The Pit of Success, the struggle isn’t just an obstacle to overcome—it’s the very thing that propels you to new heights. By acknowledging where you are, by standing in the mess and owning it, you position yourself for the pull, for the climb to the next peak.
And when you share that journey, when you show others that it’s okay to be in the pit, you give them permission to do the same. You create a culture of honesty, where people don’t have to fake it, because they know that being real is enough.
Authenticity as a Leader: The Power of Connection
In leadership, authenticity isn’t just a nice-to-have—it’s a must. People follow those they trust, and trust is built on credibility. But here’s the thing: credibility isn’t just about getting results. It’s about being someone who is consistently honest, accessible, and real. In my leadership framework, I emphasize the importance of building credibility through transparency and vulnerability. When your team knows you’re willing to admit mistakes, when they see you standing in the fire and refusing to pretend everything’s fine, they believe in you. They believe in your vision because they know it’s grounded in reality.
In Traction, there’s a powerful message about the importance of leading from a place of authenticity. Leaders who “fake it” may inspire short-term confidence, but they don’t create lasting loyalty. People can see through the façade. They may not call you out on it, but deep down, they know when you’re being inauthentic. And that erodes trust over time.
When you show up as your true self—flaws, failures, and all—you build a connection that’s unbreakable. You create a culture where people feel safe to take risks, to fail, and to grow. That’s the kind of leadership that moves mountains.
The Antithesis of Authenticity: The “Fake It Till You Make It” Trap
Let’s talk about the other side of this coin. The “fake it till you make it” mentality may seem empowering. It tells you to act as if you’ve already arrived, to project success even when you’re struggling. But there’s a dark side to this approach. When you’re constantly faking it, you’re distancing yourself from the reality of where you are. You’re hiding the struggles that could be your greatest opportunities for growth. And worse, you’re reinforcing the idea that failure is something to be ashamed of, something to cover up, rather than something to learn from.
In The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fck*, Mark Manson explains that constantly projecting a perfect image isn’t just exhausting—it’s damaging. It creates a feedback loop of anxiety and self-doubt because you’re always trying to live up to an image that isn’t real. And eventually, that pressure breaks you.
When leaders “fake it,” they send a message that vulnerability is weakness, that mistakes are something to hide. That kind of culture stifles innovation, creativity, and growth. People stop taking risks because they’re afraid of being exposed. They start playing it safe, and in doing so, they stagnate.
The Power of Sharing the Vision
When I share my journey—whether on social media, in speeches, or in one-on-one conversations—I’m not just sharing the highlights. I’m sharing the whole story, because the truth is, the vision isn’t built on a foundation of perfection. It’s built on the real, raw moments of struggle and resilience.
When you share those moments, when you’re open about where you are and where you’re going, you invite others to join you. They connect with you, not because you’ve got it all figured out, but because they see themselves in your journey. They see that it’s okay to be in the middle of the mess, as long as you’re moving forward.
That’s why I don’t bend the truth to meet expectations. I don’t filter out the hard parts to make myself look better. The raw reality is this: leadership, growth, and success are messy. They’re filled with failures, setbacks, and moments of doubt. But they’re also filled with resilience, innovation, and the birth of something new.
So when I stand up as a leader, when I post on social media, when I speak to my team, I don’t show them a polished version of myself. I show them the real me. And in doing so, I create a space for them to show up as their real selves too.
Because at the end of the day, that’s what leadership is about. Not perfection, but connection. Not faking it, but facing it—head-on, with honesty, vulnerability, and a vision grounded in reality, not fantasy. That’s where real growth happens. That’s where leaders are born.