Early in my career, I thought leadership was about control. To be taken seriously, you had to be composed. Decisive. Firm. That was what authority looked like to me. And as a young woman navigating entertainment and media, I learned quickly how to embody it.

So I did.

I became measured. Contained. Efficient. I answered quickly. I spoke carefully. I made sure I looked certain, even when I wasn’t.

It built credibility and presence, and it moved my career forward.

But it also created distance.

Not from the work. From myself.

I couldn’t have named it at the time. I just knew that the people who had shaped me most, in school, at university, and throughout my career, felt different. They weren’t the loudest or the most controlled. They asked better questions. They listened. They expanded how I thought. They made me feel capable.

That contrast stayed with me.

As my career evolved from MTV and Sony Music Middle East to the past seven years at Spotify, the scale changed. Responsibilities deepened across markets and stakeholders. The pace accelerated.

Fast environments sharpen you. They demand clarity, ownership, and proactivity.

I embraced that fully. I raised my own bar. It became my default.

But somewhere along the way, I realised I was holding myself to a particular version of leadership.

Nothing dramatic happened. There was no breaking point. Just a quiet recognition that decisiveness, composure and control, while strong traits, were not the whole picture.

When I began to pause intentionally, even briefly, I saw it more clearly. The work that worked best wasn’t led by the loudest voice. It was defined by trust. By people feeling comfortable enough to challenge ideas. By making space for better decisions.

That shifted something in me.

I stopped trying to perform leadership. I started defining it for myself.

Less projection. More attentiveness. Less certainty for its own sake. More clarity about purpose.

Empathy, I realised, isn’t softness. It’s awareness. It’s understanding how people experience pressure and responding thoughtfully. It’s holding high standards while still making room.

The theme “Give to Gain” resonates with me because much of what I’ve gained came from people who gave quietly. They didn’t guard their seat at the table. They made room. Sometimes it was as simple as pulling up another chair. Other times, it was sharing context or making an introduction. Those gestures stay with you. They make it easier to step forward.

As our region continues to evolve, and as AI reshapes how we work, speed will only increase. Responsibilities will grow. But how we lead through that speed will define what we build.

For me, redefining leadership wasn’t about becoming softer or less ambitious. It was about becoming more intentional and more grounded. It was about building something sustainable, not just visibility.

To the next generation of women in our industry, you don’t need to harden yourself to be taken seriously. Substance will carry you further than projection ever will. And as you gain influence and your career progresses, leave the door open wider than you found it.

Leadership doesn’t have to look the way you first imagined it would. It can be steady. Grounded. And unmistakably your own.