TL;DR: A new title does not create a new leader. Deliberate reflection, external accountability, and disciplined priority choices help identity catch up to responsibility.

You accepted the role. People congratulated you. The lanyard changed, the email signature stretched, and the expectations quietly multiplied.

What moved faster than anything else was the demand for who you must now be. And, more than anytime in your career, you're suddenly feeling like an imposter.

A recent article on leadership identity describes this moment as a shift from executing tasks to becoming a person capable of taking on broader responsibilities. That framing lands because it explains the strange emotional mix many leaders feel after promotion. Pride sits beside exposure. Confidence lives next to doubt.

Nothing has gone wrong.

You are in a rebuild.

Yet schools are very good at promoting technical excellence and surprisingly casual about supporting identity expansion. The assumption floats around that smart, committed people will simply grow because the job requires it.

Sometimes they do.

Often, they stall, not from laziness but from lack of structure.

This is where deliberate practice enters.

The leaders who widen their capacity fastest tend to treat growth as work in its own right, not a side hobby to be squeezed in after the inbox calms down. They recognise that the whirlwind is permanent. Waiting for calm is like waiting for a staff car park to empty at 8:45 am. Admirable. Unlikely.

So, they build habits that force the identity conversation to occur.

The daily mirror

A simple journal can become a brutal ally when used honestly. Three questions, asked frequently, begin to redraw the edges of a leader.

What stretched me today?

Where did I fall short of the leader the role required?

What do I need to learn or practice next?

Notice what is happening. Attention is shifting from events to evolution. The leader is no longer merely surviving the day but mining it for growth data.

Research on professional development repeatedly shows that reflection sets high performers apart from average ones because it turns experience into insight. Without it, years in a role can pass with very little actual development.

Busyness can masquerade as progress.

Why self-reflection is not enough

Left alone, the human mind is both defendant and defence lawyer. Stories get polished. Responsibility softens. Intentions become achievements.

External accountability changes the chemistry.

A coach, mentor, or trusted colleague introduces perspective, challenge, and encouragement. They stretch the picture of what might be possible and prevent the quiet settling that occurs when people grade their own homework.

Leaders who invite others into their growth journey move faster because they cannot hide from it.

Pay yourself first

Many leaders wait to work on themselves until everything else is finished. That day never arrives.

A more useful analogy comes from financial discipline. Investors who build wealth treat savings as a priority deduction, not a leftover. Leadership development works the same way. Time must be reserved before operational appetite consumes it.

Thirty minutes of protected thinking across a week is not extravagant. It is maintenance of the instrument everyone else relies upon.

If growth matters, it appears in the calendar.

The misunderstanding that traps new leaders

Promotion tempts people to repair irritations they endured under the previous regime. Finally, authority. Finally, change. Finally, justice.

But higher roles widen the field of view. They demand attention to system health, coherence, talent development, and future positioning. Staying absorbed in old frustrations can feel productive while the real work waits patiently for maturity to arrive.

Identity lags altitude.

Until leaders see themselves as custodians of the whole, they will keep returning to the parts they once owned.

Permission without indulgence

Here is the balance many people need.

Growth takes time. No one becomes the finished article in a term. However, while Malcom Gladwell argued that mastery could be achieved with 10,000 hours of practice, the reality is better illustrated by a range of 728 to 16,120 hours. Early uncertainty is not a verdict on suitability.

At the same time, remaining static is not neutral. Schools require movement because students, staff, and communities depend on leadership capacity to increase, not plateau.

So, the invitation is this.

You are allowed to be learning.

You are not allowed to stop.

Think of how teachers evaluate progress in their classrooms. Improvement from the starting point matters more than comparison with an idealised benchmark. The same generosity can apply to leaders, provided the trajectory is visible.

When overload is real

There will be seasons when cognitive or emotional demand spikes. During those periods, leaders may need recovery, distance, or support. Resetting is not surrender. It is preparation to return stronger.

What it cannot become is a permanent exemption from growth. The role keeps evolving whether we do or not.

Becoming on purpose

One line captures the heart of it.

I am not behind. I am becoming. But I must become deliberately.

Deliberate becoming is visible in small, repeated actions. Honest reflection. Shared accountability. Protected time. A willingness to release the comfort of technical mastery in favour of broader responsibility.

None of these creates fireworks in a staff meeting. All of them build leaders whom others can rely upon when complexity rises.

The school does not need instant perfection from newly promoted people.

It needs evidence that they are under construction by choice.

So, the question that lingers is beautifully simple.

Who is the role inviting you to become next?