How to lead when you’re not part of the clique

What do you do when you step into a leadership team that already has its own orbit… and you’re not in it?

Not because you’re unqualified.

Not because you’re unrespected.

But because the ways of working were built long before you arrived—sometimes by people who are nothing like you.

This isn’t just about gender (though it’s an issue many women in leadership face).

It’s about legacy, access, and the invisible rules that shape influence.

And breaking in has very little to do with being louder, tougher, or more impressive.

It starts with understanding the system you just stepped into — so you can engage with it on your own terms.

When over-responsibility keeps you outside the circle

When Keisha joined her company’s senior leadership team, she immediately felt the gravitational pull of a boys’-club culture — one held together not just by tenure, but by unwritten rules.

Deals were shaped on golf courses, and in casual side conversations she wasn’t part of.

Inside the office, the divide showed up in a quieter way: unequal expectations.

While her peers declined extra work, bowed out of late-night events, and protected their calendars without consequence, Keisha found herself feeling obligated to say yes to almost everything — late-night events, urgent “fire drills,” ad-hoc requests that weren’t actually her responsibility.

The more she stepped up, the more they stepped back. Tasks that belonged to everyone somehow became hers.

This wasn’t about communication style.

It wasn’t about debate pace.

It was about unequal expectations and misaligned incentives.

The insiders said no without consequence.

Keisha said yes because she felt she had to.

The contrast became impossible to ignore when she saw how her peer Kyle operated.

He set clear boundaries, turned down nonessential asks, and carved out time for his priorities without apology. And the best part? No one questioned it. No one challenged it. It was simply accepted — because he was part of the inner circle.

Meanwhile, Keisha’s calendar was stacked from morning to night.

When we met, she was worn down — and that fatigue helped her finally articulate the trade-offs she’d been absorbing alone. Once she explained to her CEO and boss how much was at risk if she kept saying yes to everything, they supported a more focused, high-impact priority set. Boundaries became a strategy, not a struggle.

So she made a different choice.

She took back her lunch hour. Blocked real focus time. Limited evening obligations. And asked her EA to actively protect her boundaries.

The turning point wasn’t a communication shift. It was a mindset shift.

By reclaiming her time, she wasn’t just preserving herself — she was modeling leadership that didn’t rely on over-responsibility. And with that clarity, the power dynamics that once felt fixed started to loosen.

Because being effective doesn’t come from doing more than everyone else. It comes from showing that your time, your judgment, and your capacity deserve the same respect as anyone in the room.

Ask yourself: Am I mirroring behavior… or leading with intention? Where am I trying to “earn my way in” instead of building my way in?

New role, new dynamic — even when you’re not new

When Jordan was promoted to the executive leadership team (ELT) after more than a decade with her company, she expected the transition to feel natural.

She knew the business.

She knew the people.

She’d supported these executives for years.

But the moment her new title was announced, the dynamic changed.

Former peers who once confided in her now chose their words carefully. A newly hired executive seemed unsure how to read her.

And the ELT moved with an ease and shared understanding that she suddenly felt out of sync with.

The shorthand that created efficiency also created accidental exclusion.

Jordan wasn’t “new,” but she wasn’t fully “in” either.

So she slowed down and started with something simple but powerful: reintroduction.

Not asserting authority. Not presenting her plan. But asking peers what they were solving for, what they were proudest of, and what they feared might be lost as the company continued to evolve.

The breakthrough came at an offsite where something deeper surfaced: not everyone on the senior team felt the same level of comfort or trust — and it wasn’t just the newer leaders who felt the deficit. Some long-tenured members felt like insiders, others felt like they were operating on an island, and no one had been naming it out loud.

Jordan named what others tiptoed around: “We don’t have to choose between what built this company and what will take it forward.”

That acknowledgment cracked open the room.

From there, the team articulated a shared purpose — one that preserved the DNA of the past and welcomed new leadership to shape what came next.

Trust reset.

Relationships deepened.

And Jordan became a bridge between the culture that was and the culture that could be.

Every leadership transition — promotion or otherwise — reshapes team dynamics.

The leaders who thrive are the ones who honor the history, name the tension, and help the group build a future without erasing the past.

Ask yourself: What part of the culture do I need to understand before trying to influence it? What history or legacy do I need to honor before shifting strategy?

The deeper truth about belonging in leadership

Breaking into an insular culture isn’t just a professional challenge — it’s a profoundly human one.

Because beneath the meetings, shorthand, and inside jokes, there’s a quieter fear most leaders won’t name:

What if I never feel fully “in”?

I see this fear everywhere — from high-growth startups to century-old institutions.

Talented leaders walk into rooms where the rules were written long before they arrived. The disconnect can be jarring, even if they've been with the organization for a while and have just entered a new level of leadership. They wonder whether to speak louder or soften their tone, match the energy or redefine it, prove themselves or pace themselves.

Here’s the problem: The very strategies people use to fit in often push them further out.

Overcompensating.

Mirroring behaviors that aren’t theirs.

Hiding questions.

Performing competence instead of practicing connection.

The shift isn’t about “playing the game.” It’s about stepping back long enough to understand the real currency of influence on that team.

Not bravado. Not imitation. But intention, curiosity, and the confidence to connect without contorting yourself.

Every leader navigating a “boys’ club,” a legacy culture, or a tight inner circle eventually faces this crossroads:

Do you spend your energy trying to earn a seat at someone else’s table… or do you build the conditions that make the table worth sitting at?

The leaders who thrive choose the latter.

Because breaking in isn’t about becoming someone you’re not.

It’s about showing up with clarity, respect, and the courage to contribute your way — not their way.

That’s how real influence starts.