Leading Without Apology
- Merrill Keating
- Mar 26
- 2 min read
Discernment doesn’t trend. But it’s the foundation of honest leadership.

We tell young people—especially girls—to be open. To share. To listen. To be willing to consider other points of view. On the surface, that’s not bad advice. But what happens when the call for openness becomes a performance? Or worse, a tool of manipulation?
In my work—from Girls Ignited and The Power of 100 Girls to global efforts with the UN and World Bank—I’ve seen how deeply this messaging shapes young people, especially girls. And not just in the U.S. Girls around the world are watching, often looking to the West for cues about what leadership, empowerment, and possibility look like. That’s why it matters so much that we model true strength—not the kind wrapped in constant likability, but the kind grounded in clarity, discernment, and self-trust.
I’ve watched the opposite happen online, especially among influencers, brand-builders, and those who make their living cultivating a following. There’s a certain script: radical positivity, emotional vulnerability at just the right moments, and a curated openness that rewards likability over truth. For girls and young women watching—and contorting themselves to fit that model—it can be quietly devastating.
Because here’s what doesn’t get said: not all perspectives deserve equal space. Not every disagreement is rooted in good faith. And not every boundary is a refusal to grow. Discernment is the word that holds it all—curiosity with boundaries, openness with wisdom.
But discernment doesn’t trend. And complexity doesn’t go viral.

So what spreads instead? The idea that disagreement is failure. That pushback is harshness. That true belonging means being endlessly understanding, even when it costs you your truth.
This is not empowerment. It’s erasure.
I believe we have a responsibility to the next generation—not to push them into more uncertainty or shame, but to help free them from the contradiction. The contradiction of being told they’re powerful, while being rewarded for silence. The contradiction of being told to lead, while being punished for setting limits. The contradiction of being praised for being open, when what’s really being asked is to be palatable.
We don’t need more palatable. We need more real.
And realness means sometimes saying no. Sometimes drawing a line. Sometimes refusing to perform connection when what’s needed is clarity.
That’s the kind of openness I want to model. Not the kind that makes everyone comfortable, but the kind that makes everyone honest.
This is why initiatives like Girls Ignited and The Power of 100 Girls exist. It’s why I wrote So You Want to Be a Youth Leader —not to hand young people a script, but to create space for them to lead as whole people. Not hollowed out by approval, but rooted in clarity, courage, and connection. Because real leadership doesn’t require you to shrink. It asks you to show up—with discernment, with voice, and without apology.
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