Growth rarely announces itself with clarity. It whispers. It nudges. It shows up as a quiet restlessness even when life is moving in the right direction. That is how it felt for me. Last year, when I told people I wanted to step away from a stable, growing career to pursue an MBA, they asked why. They reminded me that nothing was wrong. I listened, but deep down I knew that was exactly the point. I did not want my life to change only when forced by circumstance. I wanted to choose change while things were still steady. I wanted to stretch, explore, and step into parts of myself I had never tested.
After 10 years in consulting and tech, I knew how to deliver, how to solve, how to run fast. What I did not know was how much more there was to learn about myself. I wanted to understand the kind of leader I could become. Not the leader shaped by deadlines and client calls but the one shaped by reflection, by people, by honest conversations. That longing brought me to IMD.
From the first week, the experience felt almost like immersion into a different rhythm. A small class where every voice matters. Faces and stories from all corners of the world. People who reveal new sides of you simply by being themselves. I arrived expecting academic pressure and long hours. What I found instead was something more intimate. A year designed not only to teach but to transform.
Leadership sessions became moments of clarity. Some were uncomfortable, some unexpectedly emotional. In group work, I saw my habits in full light. The instinct to solve, the urge to speed up, the tendency to step in too quickly. I also saw how others carried strengths I did not have, and how beautiful it felt to rely on them. Working with classmates from different cultures and careers made me realize that leadership is not a solo act. It is a shared space where influence flows in many directions.
One idea that touched me deeply was secure base leadership. It helped me see that nobody rises alone. Every leader is carried by people who believe in them, challenge them, steady them, and give them courage when their own feels thin. This year gave me that base. My classmates became mirrors, anchors, and quiet sources of strength. They taught me that a good network is not built from business cards but from trust, shared struggle, small moments of honesty, and the simple comfort of knowing someone has your back.
As I look ahead, I feel drawn to the human side of leadership. I want to keep growing. Not the rushed kind of growth that comes from chasing the next milestone, but the gentle kind that comes from stepping into the unknown with intention.
If this year has taught me anything, it is this. Growth does not live in comfort. It lives in the brave decision to leave it.
