Why Admitting “I Screwed Up” Changed the Way I Lead

Leadership is a strange journey. On good days, it feels like clarity, conviction, and momentum. On tougher days, it feels like you’re walking a tightrope while everyone else is watching. But through all of it, there’s one quiet truth that took me years to really accept: leaders make mistakes too. Not occasionally — regularly. And that doesn’t make us weak or unqualified. It makes us human.

People often forget this part. Inadvertently, leaders will make bad calls. We misjudge timing, misread a situation, overlook a detail, or react too quickly. To err is human — but in leadership, not every error carries the same weight. Some slip-ups are simple: you acknowledge it, apologise, and move on. Others leave bigger marks. They shake credibility. They dent the trust your team has in you. These are the moments that linger, the ones that force you to confront who you are when things don’t go perfectly.

What I’ve noticed — in myself and in many leaders — is that these are the moments we struggle with the most. Not the decision itself, but the accountability. The apology. The willingness to say, “I got it wrong.” It made me wonder why something so inherently human is so incredibly hard for people in leadership roles.

Maybe it’s because leaders grow up with the expectation that we’re supposed to “know better.” Maybe it’s the fear that showing vulnerability will make our teams doubt us. Maybe it’s ego, or pride, or a belief that authority shouldn’t be questioned — least of all by ourselves. Or maybe it’s simply because apologising means slowing down long enough to feel the weight of the mistake, and that’s a discomfort many leaders don’t want to sit with.

Whatever the reason, I’ve learned that running away from accountability never works for long. It catches up with you, and worse, it erodes the very thing leadership is built on: trust.

It took me years — and more than a few tough lessons — to get comfortable with saying, “I made the wrong call,” or “I screwed up.” Not the corporate-sanitised version, but the raw, honest one. I won’t pretend it was easy. Every apology felt like peeling off armour I had gotten used to wearing. But with each admission, something shifted. The team didn’t lose respect for me — in fact, it was the opposite. They trusted me more. They spoke more openly. They felt safer bringing up concerns, asking questions, or admitting when they were unsure about something.

I realised that when leaders show honesty, teams show honesty back. When leaders take responsibility, teams stop fearing blame. When leaders make it safe to make mistakes, people stop hiding them — and instead, they try to learn from them.

And that changed everything.

A leader who never apologises creates a culture where everyone else hides. But a leader who owns their missteps creates a culture where people feel safe enough to grow. When you can say, “I’m human too,” your team no longer sees you as a distant figure on a pedestal. They see someone relatable. Someone they can talk to. Someone who’s in the trenches with them, not above them.

The truth is, admitting mistakes will never be effortless. It will always feel a little uncomfortable. But that discomfort is where character forms. It’s where humility takes root. It’s where trust rebuilds itself in deeper, more meaningful ways.

Leadership was never meant to be about being perfect. It was always about having the courage to stay human — especially when it matters the most. And sometimes, the most powerful thing a leader can say isn’t a grand motivational speech or a brilliant strategic insight.

Sometimes, it’s simply:
“I’m sorry. I got it wrong.”

Those words can change everything.