Strong Leaders Have Scars
I worked nights in the War Department telegraph office, where the wires never slept and the air smelled of sweat and lamp oil. He often came after dark, hat in hand, shoulders rounded, asking quietly if anything had changed. We’d pass him the strips as they came off the wire, names, numbers, places that bled together. He’d lean so close to the lamp that the paper went amber at the edges.
One night I handed him the latest report from Cold Harbor. Seven thousand men cut down in less than an hour. I had just read the numbers myself, felt the weight of them in my hands. He read the slip once, twice, and then set both hands on the desk as if bracing against a storm while he stared at the surface of the scarred desktop. For a long while he didn’t speak, only breathing slow and steady through his nose until the tremor left his fingers.
That night stayed with me, but I wasn’t the only one. Over the months, I began to read his face the way a blacksmith learns his tools. The lines deepened. The eyes took on a fixed, far-off look, as if he were listening to someone the rest of us couldn’t hear. His coat hung looser by spring. Now and then he’d try a small joke, just enough to break the heaviness in the room. But the smile stopped short of his eyes, as if the weight inside wouldn’t let it travel that far. In the lamplight his gaunt frame threw long shadows across the wall, making him seem taller and thinner than he already was. We saw the marks settling in, but not the kind a surgeon could stitch. They were deeper. Scars behind the eyes that cut all the way down into his very soul…
A polished man might have looked stronger, but that look would have rung hollow, a sordid tone that would have struck against our souls with callous indifference. We would have followed him anywhere because we knew how much value he placed on everyone he asked to bleed for the cause, and we could clearly see that he was bleeding already from the sacrifices he had already made for all of us.
Scars as the True Credentials of Leadership
We live in a world that loves polish. Leaders are expected to look unshaken, untouched, even untouchable. But the truth is that real leadership leaves a mark. You cannot make decisions that shape lives, hold responsibility for people’s futures, and carry the weight of consequences without collecting scars of your own.
Modern research on resilience and credibility echoes this: people trust leaders who show they’ve struggled and survived. Not because suffering is glamorous, but because scars prove you’ve been tested and haven’t walked away. In fact, one large survey by Deloitte found that employees were four times more likely to trust leaders who acknowledged their struggles than those who projected flawless strength.
What scars do for a leader
Scars communicate credibility. A leader who has walked through fire and carries the marks of it speaks with an authority that no smooth résumé can match. Scars also deepen empathy, because those who have bled a little are far more likely to understand the cost paid by others. And scars show commitment. They remind people that the leader has already paid a price for the mission and isn’t standing above the suffering of others, but rather in the midst of it.
But scars also have a cost…
Scars don’t come without risk. Over time, they can harden into bitterness if left unprocessed. They can weigh a leader down with guilt, regret, or exhaustion if never named or faced. They can isolate and cause a leader to feel like no one else understands their burden.
How to carry your scars well
It’s not the scar itself that makes a leader stronger, but how they carry it.
A scar carried with honesty becomes wisdom. A scar carried in silence can rot into shame. Here are a few practical steps on how to carry them well:
• Name the wound before it hardens. Pain that isn’t acknowledged turns into armor. You can’t numb the pain without giving up a piece of who you are. Remember that you must be willing to feel the pain before you can begin to process it.
• Let the scar teach, not define. Use what you’ve endured to guide others, but don’t let it become your entire story. You are more than what hurt you. Many find beauty in their scars once they can see how their suffering has become part of a story that now benefits others.”
• Rest where you can. Scars need recovery. The body and the soul are rebuilt in quiet moments, especially when supported by a trusted guide. Leadership that never rests eventually breaks.
• Show them carefully. Share your scars when it helps someone else heal or learn, not to impress, but to connect.
A leadership challenge
That brings us to the invitation and the challenge: Be courageous enough to begin the work of carrying your scars well. Don’t hide them, and don’t let them harden you. Instead, look for the wounds that still ache beneath the surface: the disappointments you buried, the failures you never faced, the conversations you still replay. Those unhealed places don’t have to be the shame or bitterness that you hide; they can become a starting point. The leaders who make the deepest impact aren’t the ones who’ve avoided pain but the ones brave enough to face it, learn from it, and let it make them more whole. Courage doesn’t have to begin on a battlefield. It can begin when you dare to stop pretending that you are untouchable.