What We Bury, and What It Costs Us
- Jan 22
- 4 min read
Updated: Jan 25
Sarah is one of two managing partners at Vane Percy & Roberts with 25 years of experience in global strategy and communications. Known for her clear thinking, sharp wit, and approachable style, she blends expertise in media, public affairs, and strategy to deliver smart, effective solutions that make a real difference.
There are parts of ourselves we are comfortable sharing. We speak easily about experiences that have shaped us in visible, socially acceptable ways. Travel, career moves, moments of growth or opportunity. These stories signal curiosity, resilience, evolution. They fit neatly into professional narratives about development and ambition.
But there is another category of experience most of us learn to keep quiet. When experiences are painful, destabilising, or deeply personal, many of us instinctively bury them. Not because they haven’t shaped us, often they have shaped us profoundly, but because we fear what they might signal. Weakness. Fragility. A lack of resilience. Too much emotion. Not enough control.
So we separate them out. We survive them privately, then return to public life as if unchanged. In boardrooms, on professional platforms, in leadership spaces, these parts of us remain carefully hidden. We show up composed, capable, contained. And in many cases, that restraint has served us well. But it comes at a cost.
The quiet labour of carrying unspoken experience
Over the past couple of years, I’ve lived through experiences that were not just difficult, but deeply disruptive. Experiences that altered how I think, decide, and relate. Not temporarily. Permanently.
Painful experiences have a way of refining perception. They change what we notice. What we tolerate. What feels meaningful. What no longer does. They sharpen our awareness of others. Why people are guarded, reserved, slow to trust, or careful with their words.
And yet, professionally, we are often encouraged to treat these experiences as irrelevant. As things to “move past,” rather than things that continue to inform how we think, judge, and relate.
The implicit message is clear:
Use the polished parts of yourself.
Leave the rest outside the room.
But leadership is rarely that clean.
Using experience without exposing it
There is an important distinction here. Using what we’ve lived through is not the same as disclosing it. This is not an argument for oversharing, confession, or turning personal pain into professional currency. For some people, telling their story publicly is part of their path but for most of us, that isn’t the work. The work is quieter.
What if the experiences we’ve buried could be used, internally, deliberately, ethically, to guide how we lead, listen, and decide? What if they help us become more precise about what matters now? What gives us energy and what drains it. What environments we thrive in and which ones we no longer wish to endure. What if, as part of healing, we allow these experiences to inform how we design our lives and our work, rather than pretending they never happened?
Strength, reframed
We often equate professionalism with emotional neutrality. But many of the strongest leaders I’ve worked with are not the most impenetrable. They are the most perceptive. They read rooms well. They sense hesitation, resistance, or fear before it becomes visible. They respond with care rather than force. Very often, that perceptiveness comes from having been through something themselves.
Not because pain automatically produces wisdom, it doesn’t, but because it can deepen empathy when it is reflected on, rather than suppressed.
When we allow ourselves to acknowledge what we’ve lived through, even privately, our judgements change. We recognise that guardedness is not always disengagement. That reserve is not always resistance. That vulnerability doesn’t always look like openness. Sometimes it looks like control.
The leadership cost of pretending otherwise
When we deny the influence of our harder experiences, we risk leading from a place that is technically competent but emotionally disconnected. We misread behaviour. We push for certainty where someone needs safety.We interpret caution as lack of capability, rather than as self-protection learned over time.
And perhaps more quietly, we make choices, roles we accept, expectations we internalise, definitions of success we pursue, that no longer align with who we are becoming. Using experience doesn’t mean centring it. It means allowing it to inform judgement. To sharpen perception. To deepen discernment.
A different kind of presence
Lately, I’ve been asking myself a different question. Not How do I move past what I’ve been through? But How do I let it change how I show up, with intention?
Can I use it to be more discerning about what matters?More compassionate about how others show up?More thoughtful about where I place my energy?
Can I recognise vulnerability not only in openness, but in restraint? What becomes clear is that this isn’t just personal. It’s leadership-defining. How we relate to our own lived experience, especially the parts we’ve learned to silence, shapes how present we really are in moments that require more than competence. Ignoring that influence doesn’t make us objective. It simply makes us less aware of what’s already at work.
Closing reflection
We all carry experiences we don’t speak about. The question isn’t whether they belong in the boardroom as stories. It’s whether we allow them to shape our leadership at all.
When we bury parts of ourselves completely, we don’t become stronger, we become narrower. And when we deny the influence of what we’ve lived through, we don’t lead from neutrality. We lead from disconnection. Not everything needs to be shared. But some things deserve to be used.
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Read more from Sarah Roberts
Sarah Roberts, Global Strategy and Communications Leader
Sarah is one of two managing partners at Vane Percy & Roberts, with 25+ years in global comms, strategy, public affairs, and stakeholder relations. Known for her clear thinking, sharp wit, and approachable style, she delivers tailored solutions that drive impactful change. Her mission is to lead with authenticity, foster collaboration, and ensure every team member feels heard and valued. Recognised for her bold, inventive approach, Sarah is a gifted networker and convenor of creative talent, always ready to make strategic choices that drive success.
