Defy Expectations

Learn to Lead with Love, Integrity and Trust

Helen Honisett

• Publisher: Author Academy Elite
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781640859227
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Business
• Subtopic: Leadership
• Index: Business

This book is about how to lead with both the heart and the head, but the heart first. This book is about being brave enough to be willing to open your heart as well as your head to lead.

Love is the missing ingredient in our corporate culture. We hear a lot of talk about trust, integrity and authenticity in leadership, but without love, none of these are possible. Without loving your teams, your peers, and your mission, you can never truly be a leader that people want to follow. But we never teach people the skill of leading, speaking and working from the heart. We never teach people to be truly open and vulnerable.

This is a book about leadership and team building but it is not your usual management book. I never set out to write a traditional book on leadership as I feel that the leadership philosophies and styles that have helped us to where we are now are not going to get us where we need to get to next.

We see and treat people as units of labour, rather than the critical part of any business that they are. We have undervalued people and the role that their life experience can bring to work, and we have allowed exclusion and elitism to run our boardrooms and executive suites.

What will this book do for you?

• This book will challenge you to think about the type of leader you want to be, both at work and at home;
• Force you to define your values and boundaries so that you know what you stand for and ask you to be brave enough to stick to these;
• Teach you how to love and lead with integrity, along with the trust of those around you in a way that is sustainable;
• Give you the steps you need to take to become and stay truly vulnerable.

Love leadership is not for the faint-hearted, there is nothing soft about love, nothing fluffy. Love is not weak, love is not a doormat, love does not compromise, but love is compassionate, listening and understanding. Love does not sit there with a smile on her face in submission. Love sprints headfirst into action.

To me, love is the ability to see the potential in another, no matter where they are in their journey. What more could we ask from our leaders but to see our potential no matter what?

I am not special or different; I am just me. I have been hurt, I have failed and messed up numerous times, and I will continue to do so. I have hurt others, both intentionally and accidentally. I am not perfect, and I don’t aim to be, but I do, passionately, want to make a difference to people and their lives.

I do, however, have over 20 years’ experience working, coaching and managing people. I know what works and what doesn’t, for the good of each individual, not just the business. I have shown again and again, that by serving and uniting your teams with love, integrity and trust, that you can deliver sustainable business growth.

This book aims to help you in doing t

Crossing the Channel

The song goes that when the going gets tough, the tough move away as far as they can…well, not quite, but I was definitely trying to play tough, and I wanted as much distance between me, and anyone who may be able to see through my facade, as possible. South West France may not be the most obvious choice, but with a 14-hour drive and a reliance on RyanAir, it certainly ticked a number of boxes. It was also convenient and far enough at the same time. There is also something wonderfully isolating about being in a country where your grasp of the language is “schoolgirl” at best. But I could not get away from myself, and that, luckily, proved to be my downfall.

We spent three months camping in a beautiful part of Southern France, settling into the routine of local life, and, changing the pace of ours significantly, we decided to start a business. The plan was to buy a house and start a life running holiday cottages. Now, anyone who now truly knows me (of which there are now a few I am pleased to share), would giggle at the concept of me hosting holidaying families and being happy in a small town of a thousand inhabitants, but that is what we decided to do. Even buying the house was a battle. If I had known then what I do now, I would have seen that the number of obstacles being put in our way was the universe saying “stop” very loudly. But I had a goal in mind and nothing was going to get in my way. Determination and bloody-mindedness were going to get me back on my feet and being successful again! (I am so glad I can now laugh at myself!)

But one of the issues with having a part of you that self-bullies is that you do not ever want to be alone – ever. You do everything you can to make sure that you don’t get stuck with that inner voice. I had tried alcohol, huge transient friend groups, one-night stands, anything to make sure that I spent the minimum amount of time “toute seule”. But the reality is, that in order to love yourself, you have to be happy sitting by yourself, you need to enjoy your own company. It is tough to love someone you don’t like, not impossible, and we will come on to that, but tough, and really tough if that person is you. This is where I learnt about the art of meditating.

I had successfully run away from my support network, placed myself in a village where I did not speak the language and laughably thought I was saving myself. But the universe has a great sense of humour, and all my logic and determination had landed me in a place where I could not hide. But the universe is also kind, so I soon found people around me who had the skills and willingness to teach me how to deal with me.

I know that every book you pick up nowadays tells you, you must meditate, and to be honest, yes, it works for me, but so do long walks in the country, running so far and fast that you want to puke, and singing my heart out whilst simultaneously dancing round the kitchen. But most people plump for the former as you get fewer strange looks when practising in public places.

My relationship with meditation has been hit and miss; sometimes it flows, I can fit it in my schedule and other times it just never happens for months on end and then stress, self-doubt and fear come and smack me so hard on the arse that I have to stop and listen. However, over the last few years, I have got to the point where if I don’t meditate on a daily basis I can now sense the difference. I am not able to focus as well and I get stressed more easily.

There are people out there who are far more qualified than me to teach you how to meditate, there are YouTube videos, free apps and sessions in your local Buddhist temple, but the most straightforward thing for me is my breath.

I had heard about meditation before I moved to France but had never considered it beyond lying flat on my back trying not to snore at the end of a yoga class. But it was in my garden in France that I first started to give it a go. Most people will tell you it takes time and patience to really experience anything when you meditate, but for me, it was an instantaneous view into the infinite possible. I think I was so numb and tired that I wasn’t expecting anything. I wasn’t trying and I had no knowledge or expectations of the life-affirming joy meditation could give me. So, when this overwhelming sense of peace descended, I honestly did not know what to do except sit there and smile.

For the first time in over a year, I was feeling something. When I look back on it now, I can put words around it like “source energy”, “pure joy”, “the vortex”, or whatever new age metaphor you want to sign up for, but for me, back then, it was so pure and peaceful.

All I was craving was peace and a place to rest. Striving, beating myself up, trying to be perfect and running away is exhausting and I don’t think I had understood how exhausted I was. I was at breaking point, well let’s be honest, I was past breaking point, and I was a mess. I was overweight, coming off anti-depressants and so unsure of who I was and what I was worth, that any kind word or action was rebuffed and scorned. What I felt sitting in the garden was a breakthrough.

I think we misunderstand peace. I certainly did. I think we equate it with calm and even being a bit boring, but it is the most energising and healing state I can be in. When I am at peace, I am in the flow, I am centred, I am present, and this is where healing can really take place. I remember sitting there on the lawn, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the sunshine on my skin and letting peace envelop me. I was not after a lightning bolt moment. I was just after a sense of ease; I just wanted to let go, to stop struggling. I was after a place where I could allow my soul and body to relax and renew. With that renewal came a hunger to learn more. To understand how I could reach this state more readily and also how I could learn to do this all the time.

It began by meeting a woman who gave me a book called The Journey by Brandon Bays. To this point, I had never been spiritual. I had once gone to church quite religiously (excuse the pun), but mainly so I could use it as an excuse to go to the teenage church group in the nearby town on a Monday night. When, what I was actually doing, was going to a local pub and doing the quiz! But engaging with spirit, engaging with a deep well of joy and love was not something I was going entertain.

Until that point, being spiritual meant one of two things; you were either one of those happy clappy crowds who to me seemed elitist and exclusive or an anti-establishment hippie wandering around in too much tie die. Spirituality was not something I realised we all need. We all need a way to connect with our souls, to the piece of you that is uniquely you.

I liked The Journey – it was logical, it followed a set pattern, and it allowed me to play the system. I could get good at “Journeys”. I could do what was needed, I could be seen to be developing, recovering, learning to be “good”, but I never actually needed to let anyone in. You are facilitated through the Journey process but you never have to explain yourself, and if I was candid with myself, after the first couple, I worked out I could detach myself from the process to a degree and go through the motions, rather than delve into the emotions.

It was safe, and I didn’t have to be vulnerable, I just had to say what was expected to be heard – so I dived headfirst into The Journey. I attended workshops. I went on long weekend retreats to learn more. I made comments that made me look good to the rest of the room, I spoke about my personal growth, I longed for the moment when I would wake up one morning, be a size 8 and I never had to worry about anything else in my life again – coz of course miracles can now happen – I read it in a book. And thus, my exploration into the world of self-help and spirituality started.

Next came a movie called “The Secret.” WOW! I can win the lottery overnight; I can create car parking spaces; I can build a miraculous life by just using my thoughts. Hey – that’s easy – I have another tool my head can use. I know I am sounding cynical, but at the time, each step of discovery I took was actually significant, taking the next step is the critical part, and it is not that I am cynical, but I have become a little jaded of a production that was not open about the hard work, soul searching and time I really needed to commit to learning to be a better me. It all sounded too good and too easy to be true.

The main message of The Secret is that our thoughts create our reality. So, for a thinker like me, this was great. I could use The Secret to think my way into a life that others would be envious of. I can live from my head and never have to touch all those gooey, uncomfortable, messy feelings. I can maintain my mask and do it all whilst fantasising about how I am going to spend my 100 million pound lottery win – Hallelujah! I focused on creating something that would make others look up to me or even proud. I never allowed myself to use any of the techniques I was learning to figure out what I truly wanted or who I truly wanted to be.

But life was going to be great!

For a while it was. To be honest, The Secret for me was a Godsend. I had, by that point, created an astonishing and terrifying inner monologue that would make hardened criminals collapse in tears and rock back and forth in the corner calling for their mummies. If I wanted to find someone who could tear me a new one, all I had to do was listen to my internal voice.

I don’t know when I started to internally abuse myself, to me it seemed that it had always been there. I was worthless, nothing, fat, ugly, unlovable, pointless, insignificant, etc. etc. etc. – this voice could go on for decades! Without that movie, I am not sure I would have ever noticed it. For me it was normal and I truly believed it was normal. I also truly believed and felt everything it said.

But for the first time I was aware, I was listening, and I started really listening - not necessarily changing my belief of the words that were said, but I actually gave it time and then changed what I heard. I became conscious of my thoughts, and I think, at that point, I became conscious of my life, my ego, and my baggage.

Acknowledging that voice and the fact it was ruling and ruining my life was the start of the fight back and was my first step into being able to let it go. I would even go so far as to say that I was actually able to love it and laugh at it. Acknowledging that voice was my first step to leading a life full of joy and love.

Controlling my head and changing my thoughts was one thing I knew I could do, so every day I picked one phrase from my inner diatribe, wrote it down, and then I wrote the opposite. For example, one of my favourite songs on repeat was “I am useless”. Not at anything specific, I just believed I was generally lacking in “use”. I started writing a list of things that I am quite useful at: cooking, selling, drinking (that got dropped from the list quite quickly for obvious reasons!) working hard, chatting to random people - you get the gist.

Once I had a new list of the useful traits, I started repeating them to myself like a mantra, over and over again until they felt natural. Very slowly the list of repetitive thoughts changed from nasty to normal, and I started to feel that I was slowly putting myself back together, in a way I had never been before.

But I was still hiding from the bigger demons, my emotions and how I valued myself. I was doing a very good and useful job of papering over the cracks. But it was at least some long overdue renovation.

For nearly five years I lived in France, perfecting my ability to drink red wine with the locals, hosting wild parties and renovating French houses, but I was ultimately still hiding from baggage I needed to face. My relationship with my husband was falling apart, and I was throwing myself into yet another corporate job I had managed to secure. No matter how hard I tried to maintain the status quo, I now knew that the universe was going to continue to put me in to situations I did not like until I learnt my lesson.

•••

I did everything wrong in my marriage from an unconditional love perspective. I wanted someone who worshipped and adored me, but I also wanted someone who I thought I was better than. I didn’t want someone to love; I was just so terrified of being abandoned (again) that I wanted to make sure I was with someone who I knew wouldn’t leave - at least not physically. As I write that, I know how awful that sounds. The man I married was a wonderful guy with great talents and depths of love and affection, but I just wanted someone there who would put me on a pedestal and tell me how great I was. If that ever faltered, I became a nightmare to live with.

Unfortunately, this happened quite regularly. I was holding him up to my unreachable expectations of perfection that, at every point, he was destined to fail.

I am not proud of the person I was, but when I look back at the lessons I learnt, I am pleased I went through the experience. My love in every aspect was conditional, and if conditions weren’t met, I pushed back and acted out. I was a spoilt brat, acting like a three-year-old who wasn’t allowed yet another episode of “Paw Patrol”. Whilst I am the first to admit that I have not thoroughly learnt this lesson, I am now at least aware of how tough I can be to love and live with and to be honest, I am continually grateful that people are willing to put themselves through the pain.

I created scenario after scenario where the poor guy was set up to fail. To prove to myself how right I was that no one could love me or treat me how I wanted to be treated. I hated myself so much that I made sure that anyone foolish enough to fall in love with me would sooner or later come to the same conclusion; I was unlovable. I pushed and pushed until my husband shut down. He emotionally stepped away from our relationship and I had the proof I needed.

Ending our relationship was one of the hardest and easiest things I have ever done. I was so convinced that anyone in my life, who did not have the misfortune to be related by blood to me, would eventually leave, that the final push came simply. However, the hardest part was that I not only isolated myself from someone who loved me but also everyone else in my life. I had proven myself unlovable, so that is what I became. I am amazed, truly grateful and humbled, that anyone from that period of my life still talks to me. Not many do, but still, more than I would ever have expected.

Inner misery and self-hatred came very easily to me. I, still to this day, have to catch myself every so often, as I can again, slip into that habit under stress. The balance of my inner beliefs and trying to meet the expectations I thought others had set let me spiral out of control. I vividly remember one night sitting in the flat I was sharing with my brother, by myself, finishing an entire litre bottle of vodka, neat.

Standing up, I walked to my bedroom, entirely steadily and put my hand out to grab the doorknob. As I did, I noticed that I was not shaking, that my vision was not blurred, and I was not what I would consider drunk. It was then I realised that I had a serious problem.

Interestingly, not with alcohol, but with myself. Unless I did something drastic to stop my habits, I was going to kill myself. I know that may seem overdramatic, and I don’t mean I was considering suicide, although that had been something that had occasionally crossed my mind ever since my teenage years. But I was abusing myself so severely that, inevitably, at some point, my body would say enough is enough.

My marriage had ended, and with that, I had lost both my husband and my closest friends. I had pushed my little brother and mother as far away as I could, I was working every hour I could, and drinking like a fish.

Alcohol has always been there my entire life, and it has been an easy tool to use for self-abuse when needed, but I have also been lucky enough that stopping has never been an issue. I can and always have gone for weeks at a time without a drop, or had a glass at dinner, or significantly more on a big night out but it has never been my addiction, and for that, I am eternally grateful. But if alcohol was not my problem, but my crutch, then what was my issue? How was I going to heal something I couldn’t even name?

The reality was that I did not have a clue what to do. I didn’t know how or who to ask for help and I was 100% positive that if I did, no one would come. But I did enjoy yoga, so I signed up for a yoga retreat in Ibiza, run by a friend of a friend. That decision turned out to be one of the best I have ever made in my life. I had been here before, at this breaking point, and the last time I ran to France, but this time I knew I could not run again. I needed to stay and face whatever this was; I needed to grow up, take responsibility and get my peace back.

I had got to a point where I knew no on...