When I was first asked to write about power, I found myself procrastinating. The concept of power has always felt foreign to me. It’s a word I’ve never associated with myself. I’ve often felt as though I existed in its absence or in reaction to it. Power seemed like something external, something other—perhaps because I was something other.
Growing up in Australia with immigrant parents, brown skin, a funny name, and an autistic brother, I often felt powerless. I remember desperately wanting to fit in, seeing it as a form of power—the power to go unnoticed and take up less space. My Catholic confirmation name—because what better way to fit in than to literally change your name—kind of says it all: Sumita Shanti Elizabeth Maharaj. Quite a mouthful, right?
In those in-between spaces, I found a sense of power in what I could control: the parts of myself that couldn’t be taken away, like my education or being seen as a ‘nice’ girl. Growing up, I wasn’t raised to be powerful in the Western sense of assertiveness or independence. Instead, I was taught to value modesty, humility, and putting family first. Funnily enough it’s through these experiences that my inner strength grew steadily, though I didn’t recognise it until much later.
Fast forward to recent years, where I find myself in a more traditional position of power in my career. But power is a tricky thing—it’s not a destination. I once believed that power came from the outside in, tied to titles or positions of authority. Over time, my understanding has shifted. Power isn’t about where you rank on an org chart; it’s something anyone can possess, regardless of their role.
For a long time, I tried to play the part of what I thought power and leadership were supposed to look like. But it never really fit, and it was exhausting. Even though I knew, in theory, that quieter strengths like being a confidant and mentor were valuable, it often felt like they didn’t hold the same weight as being the loudest voice in the room. It was only when I started embracing the qualities I had once dismissed or undervalued that I discovered a genuine sense of power.
I began to question if there was a different way for me to lead—one that felt more authentic. Could there be a quieter kind of power? Can someone who’s empathetic, or even prone to overthinking, be powerful? These ‘soft skills’ are buzzwords now, but they’ve only recently gained traction. Traditionally, power was seen as big, bold, and decisive—a display of ‘boss energy.’ Yet, for me, it’s these softer skills that have shown me what real power looks like.
So, how do I feel about power now? It’s still a bit complicated, but maybe that’s the point. I’m realising that, for me, power isn’t about being in charge. It’s the influence gained from serving, supporting, and uplifting others. And ironically, the more you give it away, the bigger it grows.