‘Being Responsible’ Is Not Equal to ‘Being Able To’

For the longest time, I seldom felt competent as a leader. I operated from the belief that I have to know everything. I thought, I must have all the skills, the answers, the expertise — otherwise, how will I guide people?

But over time, I began to see that there’s a difference between being responsible and being able to.

That realization didn’t come easily. It came after every idea I held about myself had to break. I had to confront the impossible expectation that I could — or should — know everything.

Because really, how can one person be skilled in it all?Data. Analysis. Sales. Marketing. Strategy. Collaboration. Operations. Design. Creation. Is it even humanly possible? Maybe it is, but is that the purpose of being a leader?

The truth is, I’m surrounded by people who each bring something distinct — a strength, a perspective, an ability that I don’t have. Someone understands data. Someone else brings creativity. Another knows how to connect with people or drive a project forward.

So why was I still trying to be the most competent?

People don’t trust me because I’m the most skilled. They trust me because I hold them. That realization took time — and a quiet undoing of the smallness I felt in not being “able enough.”

My greatness, I’ve come to see, doesn’t lie in my skills. It lies in my vision, my love, and my trust in people.

Responsibility, I’ve learned, is about ownership of the outcome, not the execution of every task. I can hold the vision, set the intention, and still allow others to bring their abilities into the process. Responsibility doesn’t always come with the ability to do everything yourself. Sometimes, it simply asks you to stay connected — to ensure that what needs to happen does, even if not by your own hands.

There are moments when I don’t have the skill, experience, or even capacity to execute something. That doesn’t make me less responsible — it makes me human.

Being able is about skill.

Being responsible is about intention.

When I tried to make them the same, I created unnecessary pressure — on myself and on others. I felt I had to be everything: the planner, the doer, the fixer. But acknowledging my limits has revealed something more powerful — the humility to ask for help.

That humility has changed how I lead and how I live.

Now, when I approach a project or goal, I ask: What am I truly able to do here? and Where can others contribute with their strengths? This simple awareness dissolves my need to control. It makes space for collaboration, shared growth, and genuine trust.

To admit I’m not able to do everything isn’t weakness — it’s wisdom.

Because leadership isn’t about being able to do it all.

It’s about trusting others with your purpose — and realizing that the whole will always be stronger than any one ability alone.