Mapping the Hidden Self: Thresholds in the Soul and Identity of a Leader
Over the last several months, Friedman and Walker have drawn me into an unexpected inner conversation, one that has reshaped how I think about leadership, identity, and the kind of person I want to become.
Both authors insist that leadership is not, at its core, about motivating, influencing, fixing, or controlling others. Leadership is about who I am becoming.
This simple but disruptive insight has touched some of my deepest anxieties and growth edges. I now see that the real work of leadership is interior work. It involves noticing the hidden places where I seek approval, where I protect myself, and where I am tempted to measure my worth by my contributions and achievements rather than by God’s delight in me.
I know myself well enough to understand how my Enneagram personality patterns shape these dynamics. Scoring very high Three energy with almost as high Two energy, I am driven to achieve and contribute, yet I also long for connection, significance, and affirmation. This combination makes undefended leadership particularly challenging. I want to shine, but I also want to stay in a warm, mutual relationship with others.
Making space for others to lead—especially in areas that feel core to my identity—touches a vulnerable place in me. Sometimes I am genuinely delighted to see others flourish, and other times I feel frustrated that I must give up doing something I love and where I have competence, to others, regardless of their level of competence.
This tension is one of my most significant growth edges. It calls me to live into my own emerging leadership triad: being Connected, Courageous, and Confident (which are the more “positive” terms I developed, instead of non-anxious, undefended, and differentiated, respectively).
The Growth Edge
A recurring example brings this home vividly. In every church I have served, including my current congregation, worship leadership has been one of the primary ways I connect with God. While I can worship in the pews, something in me comes alive when I’m leading music. So when pastors give others opportunities to lead, it often stirs a quiet sense of loss—sometimes even the irrational feeling of being overlooked or displaced. I know intellectually this isn’t true; I know that both people and God value my contributions. Yet emotionally, it stirs that inner conflict between wanting to contribute and wanting to stay connected.
Friedman’s explanation that he hopes to “encourage leaders to focus first on their own integrity and on the nature of their own presence” [1] has helped me reframe these moments. Rather than reacting from anxiety or withdrawing in disappointment, I am learning to articulate who I am and what I value with clarity and calm:
I love leading worship; it is central to how I connect with God. I also value sharing leadership so the whole body can flourish. I want to participate fully and to celebrate others fully. This requires inner balance and trust in God’s orchestration of our shared ministry.
Focusing on what sort of presence I bring into a room or conversation is helping me respond thoughtfully rather than react thoughtlessly. It allows me to stay connected without being fused, courageous without being defensive, and confident without being controlling.
Walker pushes me even further. His invitation to undefended leadership exposes the deeper truth: when I feel threatened by needing to step back, it reveals something backstage—there must be some old pattern or unmet emotional need that still seeks security through performance, visibility, or affirmation.
Walker’s description of the Shaping Ego—energized by self-assured leadership [2]—alongside the Defining Ego—”often the highest achievers, able to marshal considerable personal resources of discipline, focus and self-belief” [3]— helped me understand why stepping back sometimes feels like a knife-wound to my self-identity.
His work invites me to lead with interior freedom: to celebrate others, to step back when necessary, and to allow God to hold my identity more firmly than any role ever could. This is the work of courageous undefendedness; it’s an aspirational threshold that requires persistent grace.
Thresholds of the Soul
As I look back across my formation, I can see several “thresholds of the soul” I have crossed. One is realizing that leadership presence is not a static trait but a process of becoming. I now see myself as someone moving from Fragmented Presence to Integrated Presence, and slowly into Coherent Presence—that state where my inner world is aligned, steady, and grounded in God.
Another threshold is understanding that my leadership flows from how I relate not only to others, but to God and to my own story. Leadership for me is now a whole-life calling, not a role-specific activity. It includes how I show up in my relationships, how I navigate my ego-shape, and how I experience attachment with God.
Intellectually, the frameworks from this program have been quietly transforming me, sometimes even before I realized it. My Substack reflections from last summer already reflected the seeds of these ideas. The Three Zones of Leadership Presence and the Three C’s [4] have become lenses through which I now understand systems, ego defenses, and differentiation. Emotionally, I am learning to soften, to be less defended, and to trust my identity more deeply.
Spiritually, the Cycle of Grace (by Trevor Hudson and Jerry P. Haas) has been a lifeline. I brought it into my doctoral project for others because it has become the pattern for how I want to live: beginning with the knowledge that I am deeply loved by God, resting in that identity, and allowing everything else to flow from God’s presence. [5]
New thresholds continue to emerge, though I cannot yet name them. God has surprised me too many times for me to assume I know what comes next. What I do know is that courageous undefendedness is an invitation I must keep praying into, one day at a time. My morning walks with our dogs—sometimes with my husband, sometimes alone—have become small altars of grounding, joy, and quiet presence. My close friendships and Bible study group provide spaces where I am known, supported, and held. These relationships keep me connected, courageous, and confident.
This integrated way of understanding myself—intellectually, emotionally, spiritually—deepens my sense of vocation. I hope to continue coaching and offering spiritual direction, but I am also longing to guide other leaders through this journey toward coherent presence and flourishing. Ultimately, flourishing is what God desires for all His people. And as I continue becoming a leader who rests in her belovedness and who is connected, courageous, and confident, I hope to help others flourish as well.
On a personal note: Thank you, dear fellow doctoral travelers, for your kindness, compassion, honesty, vulnerability, and service to the Kingdom of God. I will sincerely miss each one of you. Dr. Jason, that includes you! 🙂
1 – Edwin H. Friedman, A Failure of Nerve: Leadership in the Age of the Quick Fix, rev. ed. (New York: Church Publishing, 2017), 14.
2 – Simon Walker, Leading Out of Who You Are: Discovering the Secret of Undefended Leadership (Carlisle, UK: Piquant Editions, 2007), 66.
3 – Walker, 74.
4 – Deborah Owen, “What’s Missing in Most Leadership Teaching Today,” Rooted & Rising (Substack), August 16, 2025, https://debbieowen.substack.com/p/whats-missing-in-most-leadership
5 – Trevor Hudson and Jerry Haas, The Cycle of Grace: Living in Sacred Balance (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Books, 2010), 6.
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