Leadership Development Books Shifted My Entire Perspective

I never thought I’d be the kind of person who liked leadership development books. The phrase used to make me cringe, honestly. It brought to mind overpriced seminars, stiff hotel conference rooms, maybe a guy with a headset mic yelling about hustle and vision. It all felt... off like something made for people who already had things figured out. They were the people who wore suits for fun, apparently.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t even speak up in a room without rehearsing it five times in my head. CEO life? Nope. I just wanted to stop disappearing during every team call. And the second-guessing? Constant. Late at night, out of frustration or maybe just searching for something that made sense, I started reaching for those books. Quietly. Secretly. Like I was doing something embarrassing.

And honestly? They wrecked me in the best, weirdest way.

When You Realize the Problem Isn’t “Them”

One of the first things I noticed when I started reading this stuff was how much I blamed other people. My coworkers didn’t listen. My boss micromanaged. The team lacked “vision.” I had all these phrases I used, mostly to let myself off the hook.

But somewhere in the middle of one of the best leadership books I’ve read, Dare to Lead by Brené Brown, I hit a paragraph that said: “You can’t lead others if you’re not willing to lead yourself.”

And I kind of froze.

Because, y’know, I wasn’t doing that. Not really. I avoided feedback unless it was positive, and spoke only when I felt certain. Also, I dismissed people’s ideas because they didn’t sound polished enough. And if something went wrong? Well, it was someone else’s fault.

So yeah. That stung. A lot.

But it also made me curious. If I were part of the problem… could I be part of the solution?

Not Everything Has to Be a Grand Vision

A turning point came when I read a line in one of the leadership development books: Leaders Eat Last by Simon Sinek, I think, that said, “Great leaders are rarely the loudest in the room.” I had to reread that like five times.

Because I'd always assumed leadership meant commanding a room. Being charismatic. Loud. Confident. Making sweeping decisions like a character in a Netflix series. But apparently, it could also mean listening well. It’s stepping in when your team’s exhausted. And having the guts to admit when you completely missed the mark.

That blew my mind.

I started thinking back. The folks who made the biggest impact on me? They weren’t the ones talking the most. They just... led differently. Sometimes they were just steady. Thoughtful. What struck me was their comfort with uncertainty. Being able to say, “I don’t know,” and still lead? That felt impossible. I wasn’t sure I had that kind of openness yet.. But maybe I could try.

Leadership Isn’t Linear

Some weeks, I felt like I was making progress. I'd catch myself before interrupting someone. Instead of jumping in with my “fix,” I started asking my teammates what made them choose that route in the first place. I even started giving feedback without spiraling into anxiety.

But other weeks? Total chaos. I’d snap at someone during a meeting. Or stay quiet when I knew I should speak up. Or worse—I’d backtrack completely and fall into my old habits. That sucked.

But one of the books about leadership development I picked up during that messy period had this oddly comforting message: you’re supposed to fail at this. Growth isn’t this perfectly angled line going up forever. It loops. It dips. Sometimes it nosedives. Doesn’t mean you’re off track. It stayed with me. Because, honestly, the world around us never shuts up about moving up, doing more, staying ahead.

Promotions. Raises. New titles. But leadership, real leadership, doesn’t always show up on a résumé. Sometimes it’s in the tiny, invisible stuff: asking for help. Letting someone else shine. Admitting you need a minute to collect your thoughts.

So yeah. Messy counts.

The Book That Made Me Cry

It’s a little embarrassing, but I cried while reading The Five Dysfunctions of a Team. Midway through a section on trust, something in me broke open. The book, arguably one of the best leadership development books, described how people hide behind competence when they don’t feel safe. And suddenly I saw myself. Exactly as I was.

Not just at work, either. In life. In friendships. Even in my marriage. I’d built this whole personality around being competent and self-sufficient, and now I was realizing... I didn’t trust people to see me messy. I didn’t even trust myself to be messy.

That hit harder than I expected.

I think that’s the part of leadership that no one really talks about. It’s not about learning how to “get people to do what you want.” It’s about becoming the kind of person people want to follow. And that requires honesty. Vulnerability. It’s whispering, “I need help,” and realizing the world keeps turning even when your voice shakes.

A New Kind of Confidence

It wasn’t some light switch moment. But slowly, quietly, I stopped feeling like I didn’t belong in leadership. I wasn’t suddenly brilliant or anything. I just stopped fighting the fact that leadership’s messy. And that made it easier to speak up, even with doubts still in the mix. I asked more questions now and gave more credit. Also, I admitted when I dropped the ball and even started mentoring someone else at work. Me! The same person who used to avoid eye contact in Zoom meetings.

And no, I’m not saying all of that came from books. A lot of it came from trial and error, hard conversations, late-night journaling, and probably more therapy than I want to admit. But those books about leadership development? They helped. They reminded me, quietly but clearly, that struggling through the middle part was totally normal.

That’s the thing about the best leadership development books: they don’t give you a blueprint. They permit you. To try and to fail but to grow anyway.

So… Why Bother?

Now and then, the weight of it all catches up to me. I wonder why it isn’t enough to work and go home in peace, simply? Why do we have to be constantly developing as leaders and humans and whatever else?

But then I think about the little things.

Like when a junior teammate asks me a question without fear. Or when I see someone else take the lead and I realize they feel safe enough to try. Or when I handle a tough conversation without spiraling for three days afterward.

That’s why.

So yeah, I used to roll my eyes at leadership development books. I thought they were for people with something to prove. But now I see them for what they are: tools. Stories. Mirrors. Sometimes, even a lifeline.

And maybe the wildest part of all? I enjoy them now.

Go figure.