From Collapse to Clarity: A Journey of Leadership Rebirth
- Aug 5
- 6 min read
Updated: Aug 7
Dr. Dina Faidi
Leadership Growth Advisor, Learning Strategist
Founder of Creativity & Beyond Consulting Firm (UAE)
As the sun rose over Cappadocia, Dina drifted quietly among hot air balloons, wrapped in golden light. In that stillness, an inner voice emerged:
“I am alive. And my life is already full of unseen blessings.”
But awe gave way to silence. A sudden fall off a horse fractured her sacrum. Everything came to a halt.
Two months later, still in pain, she walked the graduation stage—not just for a degree, but for her daughter, her late mother, and every silent battle she had endured.
She wasn’t fully healed. But she chose to rise. And it was that choice—not her condition—that made her stand tall.
Leadership isn’t shaped by triumph alone. It's forged in the quiet decision to rise—especially when it hurts.
When the Applause Fades
Q. Have you ever felt an unexpected emptiness after achieving something significant?
Yes, absolutely. That moment came after completing my doctorate—a milestone I had poured years of energy and meaning into. I expected to feel fulfilled. But once the applause faded, I was met with something unexpected: a quiet sense of emptiness. I had arrived… and suddenly, I didn’t know what came next.
To any leader in that space, I’d say: don’t rush to escape the silence. That void isn’t failure—it’s space. Space to pause, reflect, and rediscover who you are beyond the goal.
We often define ourselves by the pursuit of what’s next. But real growth happens when we ask: “What did this journey awaken in me? How did I change?”
After achievement, give yourself space to integrate rather than rushing ahead. True success lies not in reaching the finish line, but in how we carry ourselves beyond it.
Your worth reveals itself in how you evolve with purpose—even when the future is unclear. Milestones may mark moments, but they don’t define who you are.
Knowing When to Pause and When to Move
Q. How do you navigate the balance between reflection and action as a leader?
That rhythm—between stillness and action—is at the heart of self-leadership. At different points in my life, I’ve been grounded in reflection and also stepped into motion and risk. I’ve learned that leadership means knowing when to pause and when to move.
Reflection brings clarity. It reconnects us with our values and reveals what lies beneath. But leadership takes shape through conviction in action, even when the outcome is uncertain.
The challenge is balance:
Too much stillness brings hesitation; too much motion lacks depth. Let the two inform each other.
Don’t wait for perfect clarity—clarity often comes through doing.
Setbacks Don’t Break You—They Reveal You
Q. How have personal setbacks shaped your view of leadership?
I think personal setbacks crack us open in ways that success never can. When I fell off a horse and fractured my sacrum, everything stopped. I couldn’t move, walk, or even sit. But in that stillness, something shifted.
Stripped of the roles and titles that had defined me, what remained was just me—vulnerable, yes, but also deeply awake.
Setbacks force us to confront what we often avoid: our limits, fears, and attachment to control. But they also reveal what lies beneath: resilience, humility, and clarity.
That fall became a mirror. It showed me I didn’t want to lead by powering through, but by showing up with authenticity, empathy, and grace.
Setbacks invite us to stop performing leadership and begin to embody it.
Growth comes not from always getting it right, but from how we rise—and who we become.
Q. What would you say to a leader who feels lost in the middle of a fall?
I would say: This is not the end of your story—it’s your turning point. It’s the moment when something deeper and more truthful can emerge.
A woman leader I know lost her executive position after a sudden restructure. At first, she felt stripped of identity, unsure who she was without the title.
But as she stayed with the discomfort, she began redefining success on her own terms. She rediscovered her voice beyond the role, and unexpected doors began to open.
Her fall became her unfolding.
Less Performance, More Presence
Q. What does “rebirth” look like in your everyday leadership now—both at work and in life?
“Let this be your rebirth.” That line came to me after a breaking point—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Since then, I’ve chosen to lead differently.
I no longer chase productivity for its own sake—I prioritize presence.
I listen more deeply: to others, to the energy in the room, and to myself. I’ve let go of needing to have all the answers and lead with more curiosity and humility.
I’ve redefined strength. It’s no longer about pushing through. It’s about honoring boundaries, asking for help, and creating space for rest.
I’m more intentional with my time, more discerning with my “yes,” and more rooted in what truly matters.
Rebirth taught me that life doesn’t return to what it was—it expands into something more meaningful.
And so has my leadership:
less performance, more presence.
Less control, more connection.
Less striving, more alignment.
Q. Since your recovery, what unexpected part of yourself have you discovered or reclaimed?
What surprised me most was my ability to embrace presence, and to live and lead at a slower, more conscious pace.
In my earlier years, I was always in motion, constantly saying yes to every opportunity. But through recovery, I realized that true strength isn’t doing more—it’s knowing when to pause.
One turning point came when I was offered a high-impact project. It aligned with my skills, but not my current energy. For the first time, what guided my decision wasn’t fear, but a profound sense of self-respect.
That moment reflected a new kind of leadership, grounded in presence, discernment, and sustainability.
Now, I teach others that slowing down isn’t failure—it’s a strategy for long-term impact.
From Guiding to Holding
Q. How has your approach to mentoring changed since your personal transformation?
Before, I focused on helping others achieve goals, growth, and impact. Now, I guide them to listen to their bodies, inner wisdom, and limits.
I mentored a young leader who came to me burnt out and overwhelmed. Rather than urging him to “bounce back,” I invited him to slow down. We worked on noticing patterns, honoring boundaries, and redefining his worth beyond output.
Months later, he told me,
“I’ve started hearing myself again.”
That’s the shift: I no longer try to fix or direct—I hold space. And in that space, real transformation happens.
When Success Aligns with Self
Q. How has your definition of success evolved through your inner journey and physical recovery?
My definition of success has completely shifted. For a long time, it meant external achievements—degrees, titles, recognition. While those still hold value, they no longer define my worth or guide my choices.
The fall, the healing, and what it revealed taught me that real success is alignment—when who you are, what you believe, and how you lead are in sync.
It’s waking up with clarity, standing by your values, and leading with integrity—even when no one is watching.
To leaders, I’d say this: don’t confuse momentum with meaning. While achievement may turn heads, it’s alignment that keeps us grounded.
Purpose isn’t always loud. It lives in how you lead, the space you hold, and your honesty with yourself.
Chase what feels true, not just what looks good. Because when the applause fades, what matters is how you lived and led, not just what you achieved.
🔗 Connect with Dr. Dina Faidi on LinkedIn
📘 This story is part of my journey featured in Shaken Stirred But Not Deterred Vol. 3: Celebrating the Power of Human Spirit, alongside 17 global leaders who turned adversity into power. 👉 Read the book on Amazon
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