Case Studies
Honest accounts of what it actually looks like when someone stops hiding and starts remembering who they actually are.
The job titles are real. But if you recognise yourself in any of these stories, the title is the least important thing about them.
Consultant Surgeon
Performing the role
Showing up differently
With over 20 years’ experience, he came into the work expecting something technical, practical, and something he could apply immediately. At first, he wasn’t sure what he was getting from it. He’d spent decades performing the role of consultant surgeon. Moving fast. Acting decisively. Knowing the answer before others had finished the question. That’s what the role demanded. And somewhere along the way, he’d stopped questioning whether that was actually him.
During the work, he started to notice things he’d been moving too fast to see. How little room he was actually giving people. How often he was already acting before he’d properly understood what was in front of him. How often he was performing rather than being present.
And that was uncomfortable.
Because he was good at his job. Nobody was questioning that. But when he slowed down long enough to actually look …really look …he could see the gap between who he was being and who he actually was. That’s not an easy thing to sit with. Especially when you’ve spent twenty years being certain.
He slowed down. On purpose. Not because it was comfortable. But because he couldn’t un-see what he’d seen. He started listening differently and letting people finish. Taking the time to understand what was actually there before stepping in. And that changed things.
In one situation, faced with a disorganised team, he would previously have walked away. Instead, he stayed. He understood everyone’s strengths. Worked with what was there. It took longer, but the team worked with more clarity. The situation settled. And it delivered, safely, and successfully. Even at home, his wife noticed. He was more present, less reactive, and a better listener.
Nothing about his clinical ability changed. But he stopped performing the role in the same way. He started being more himself within it. And that, more than any technique or framework, was what made the difference.
“I realised I needed to stop approaching it as technical training and come with a different mindset. That’s where the real value was.”
Director of Operations
Proving worth
I stopped rushing to prove myself
She was used to moving quickly. Making decisions fast, and getting things done. If something needed dealing with, she dealt with it. Straight in. Straight through. No delay. That’s how she’d always worked. And for a long time, it worked. But underneath the pace, something else was running. A quiet pressure to stay on top of everything. To keep things moving. To prove she had everything handled.
Somewhere along the way, she’d absorbed the idea that her value was in the doing. And if she stopped, slowed down, or let things sit for a moment, something would fall apart. Or someone would notice she wasn’t keeping up.
So, she kept going. Until she started to notice what it was costing her. Her team weren’t struggling because she wasn’t capable. The space just wasn’t there. For them. Or for herself. And when she saw that clearly …really clearly …it was uncomfortable. Because she was good at what she did. Nobody was questioning that. But the pace she’d been keeping wasn’t just a work style. It was a way of avoiding something she hadn’t wanted to look at.
The question underneath it all: Was she enough without the doing?
That’s not an easy question to sit with. Especially when the doing had been working, at least on the outside, for so long.
The work asked her to look at what she’d been carrying, and why. She started noticing the pressure she’d put on herself. Where it had come from. How much of it was actually hers, and how much she’d just picked up and never put down. And when she saw it clearly, she could make a different choice. She stopped rushing to prove herself through doing.
She slowed down. Listened more and let things unfold before stepping in. And that changed the dynamic around her. Her team had space to step forward, and they started using it. Conversations didn’t need chasing in the same way. She wasn’t holding everything together anymore.
But the real shift wasn’t about her team. It was about her. She stopped performing busyness as proof of her worth. It turned out she already was enough.
“You’ve made a huge difference to me and the way I deal with my team.” “I’m more intentional with my time and energy and how I manage people.”
Regional Manager
Hiding inside busyness
Permission to stop
She’d just stepped into a bigger role and was quickly feeling the pressure. The pace was relentless. Targets, staffing issues, constant demands, everything coming at once. Like a lot of people in that position, she did what she’d always done. Kept going. Dealt with things as they came up. Kept pushing forward. It’s what the role seemed to demand. And it’s what she’d learned worked.
But underneath the momentum, something was building. She was carrying more than was actually hers to carry. Absorbing pressure that wasn’t moving anywhere. Avoiding conversations that needed to be had. She wasn’t hiding from the work. She was hiding inside it.
And when she slowed down long enough to see that …really see it …it was uncomfortable. Because from the outside, she looked like someone who had it together. Someone who could handle the pace. Someone who was on top of it. But on the inside? She was exhausted. And deep down, she already knew it. The pace had become the way she coped. Not the way she led.
That’s not an easy thing to admit. Especially when keeping going had always been the answer before.
What changed started with something that felt almost too simple. She gave herself permission to stop. Not to step back from the role. Just to create space within it. Time that wasn’t about fixing or firefighting. Time to actually think. And in that space, she could see things she’d been moving too fast to notice. What actually needed her. What didn’t. Which conversations she’d been putting off, and why. What she already knew but hadn’t let herself say out loud yet.
From there, the shift was visible. She started addressing things directly. Having the conversations she’d been circling. Letting her team carry what was theirs to carry. People started taking ownership. Things started moving without her needing to control everything.
And she noticed something.
She was being seen differently. More credible, more grounded, more herself. Not because she was doing more. But because she’d stopped hiding inside the doing.
“I don’t avoid things anymore. I deal with them.”
Head of Department
Keeping everyone happy
Work stopped taking over
She was taking on too much. Saying yes too often. Carrying more than her role required, for herself and her team. Work was spilling over into everything. Evenings. Home life. Headspace. From the outside, it looked like commitment. Inside, it felt like overwhelm.
But underneath the overwhelm, something else was running. A pattern she’d never really examined. Somewhere along the way she’d learned that saying yes was how you showed you cared. That taking on more was how you proved your value. That putting yourself first, including your time, your boundaries, and your limits, was somehow selfish.
So, she kept saying yes. And the work kept taking over. Until she couldn’t ignore what it was costing her anymore. And when she stopped long enough to actually look …really look …it was uncomfortable. Because she wasn’t someone who didn’t care. She wasn’t someone who was getting it wrong. She cared deeply, but not always about the things that needed her. About what others needed. About what others thought. About proving something she’d never actually stopped to question.
Did she actually have to earn her place this hard?
That’s not an easy question to sit with. Especially when saying yes had always felt like the generous thing to do. The work didn’t ask her to care less. It asked her to look honestly at what she’d been doing, and what belief had been driving it. She started noticing the pattern. Where she was filling her time. What she was saying yes to, and why. How much she was carrying that wasn’t actually hers to carry.
Then she did something that felt uncomfortable at first. She started saying no. Not to everything. But to the things that didn’t actually need her. She created boundaries, as a choice. Her time stopped feeling so full. She wasn’t rushing everything. She had space to actually think about her work, instead of reacting to it.
She started finishing on time. Work stayed at work more often than not. And outside of it, there was space again. Space to switch off, be present, and actually feel like herself, not just the role.
The work didn’t shrink. But how she held it completely changed.
“I finally have time to think.”
Assistant Headteacher
Taking responsibility for everyone
Handling things differently
She was dealing with a lot. Personally and professionally. When she came into the work, she was at rock bottom. Carrying the impact of a difficult personal situation, while also taking on everyone else’s problems at work. Stepping in. Fixing. Fighting other people’s corners.
That was how she operated. And somewhere underneath it, there was a belief that had been running quietly for years. That if she didn’t step in, things would fall apart. That her value was in being the one who sorted things out. That if she stopped carrying everyone else, she’d somehow be failing them.
So, she kept carrying. Until the weight of it brought her to rock bottom. And when she stopped long enough to actually look at what she’d been doing …really look …it was uncomfortable. Because she wasn’t a weak person. She wasn’t someone who couldn’t cope. She was someone who cared deeply. But caring had become carrying. And somewhere along the way, she’d stopped being able to tell the difference.
That’s not an easy thing to see. Especially when stepping in had always felt like the right thing to do.
The work didn’t ask her to stop caring about the people around her. It asked her to look at what she’d been doing, and why. She started to see the pattern. How stepping in had become automatic. How she’d been solving problems that weren’t hers to solve. How in doing that, she was getting in the way. Of her team, her colleagues, and herself.
And when she saw it clearly, she could make a different choice. Instead of stepping in, she started stepping back. Asking questions. Letting others think and find their own way through. She watched a colleague grow in confidence. Something she admits she might have prevented before, without ever meaning to.
At the same time, something shifted in her. She stopped second-guessing. Stopped bracing herself for conflict. Started listening without feeling intimidated. And the overthinking, and constant replaying of situations, quietened. She still had difficult conversations. She just wasn’t overwhelmed by them anymore.
And the weight she’d been carrying for everyone else? She put it down.
“I feel I stand straighter.”
Chief Executive
Looking everywhere but inward
Finding the real focus
She came in thinking the work would be about sorting out her team. It wasn’t.
A senior leader operating across national and regional bodies. Experienced, capable, and used to complexity. She was carrying a lot. Decisions about her future. Boundaries that weren’t working. A reorganisation that was both energising and exhausting. Staff who weren’t stepping up.
She arrived with an agenda. A clear focus on what needed fixing, who needed stepping up, what needed moving forward. All of it pointing outward. That’s how she’d learned to lead. At that level, the focus is always outward. The organisation, the people, the problems, the pace. And she was good at it.
But in looking outward so consistently, for so long, something had quietly got lost. Herself. And when the focus turned back to her …and she had to actually sit with that …it was uncomfortable.
Because she was used to being the one with the answers. The one who held things together. The one who knew what needed doing next.
But this was a different kind of question.
Not what does the organisation need? What do you actually need?
Not what’s not working out there? What’s not working in here?
That’s a different place to lead from. And not an easy one to step into. Because it meant acknowledging something she hadn’t given herself space to see. She’d been so focused on everything around her that she’d lost sight of herself entirely.
The work didn’t ask her to step away from the role. It asked her to bring herself back into it. She got clearer on her boundaries and found a way of working that actually suited her. She started challenging more effectively rather than absorbing frustration. Conversations were clearer, because she was more grounded in what actually needed to be said. She got honest about where she was in her career. Not climbing but choosing a pace and direction that felt right for her.
Not everything resolved neatly. She’ll tell you that herself. But something fundamental shifted. She stopped trying to fix what was around her and started understanding what was true for her.
“I came in thinking it was going to be about sorting out problems with my team. The focus on me was invaluable.” “It can be very lonely at the top. This gave me the chance to offload in a safe environment and find what I needed to thrive.”
Finance Director
Following someone else's path
Genuinely life changing.
He came in feeling lost. Not in a dramatic way. Just that quiet, persistent sense of “Is this it?” Low motivation. Little enthusiasm. Stuck in patterns that felt familiar, but not fulfilling. And like many people at that level, he could keep going. He was capable. Competent. Successful by every external measure.
But something wasn’t sitting right. And when he slowed down long enough to actually look at that …really look …it was uncomfortable. Because from the outside, everything looked fine. Good career. Good role. Moving in the right direction.
But whose direction was it? That’s the question he’d never properly asked himself. Not because he was avoiding it. But because he’d never been given the space to ask it. He’d spent years building a career on values he’d absorbed rather than chosen. Moving toward milestones that had always been there, including promotion, status, security, without ever stopping to ask whether they were actually his.
And sitting with that realisation …really sitting with it …was unsettling. Because if the path he’d been following wasn’t really his, then who was he following it for? That’s not an easy thing to admit. Especially when the path had looked like success for so long.
The work didn’t start with changing his job. It started with something simpler. And harder. Understanding what actually mattered to him. His values. Not the ones he’d worked to. The ones he’d never properly stopped to define.
From there, things began to shift. He stopped defaulting to what he’d always done. Started making choices based on what actually felt right to him. Different opportunities. A different direction. Even a different place to live.
The change wasn’t just internal, it showed up in his life. More energy, more clarity, more movement. From stuck, to excited about what was ahead.
“I moved from feeling quite lost to feeling excited and enthusiastic about the future.”
If you recognised yourself in any of these, a Hide and Seek Session is where it starts.
