No justification required

A few weeks ago, someone in a Slack community I’m part of asked a simple question: 

“What are you reading?”

It was posted in a subgroup of nonprofit consultants—people who, like me, spend their days thinking about systems, strategy, and human-centered leadership. The question was casual, maybe even intended as a little break from all that. A soft pause in an otherwise very purpose-driven space.

As the responses started rolling in, I noticed a pattern.

When someone shared a nonfiction book—especially a leadership book or something tied to work—they just said the title. No fluff. No lead-in. Just: “Right now I’m reading The 12 Week Year.” Or, “Digging into Uncharted: How to Navigate the Future.”

But when someone named a novel—something fictional, creative, maybe even whimsical—it almost always came with a disclaimer.

• “For fun, I’m reading…”
• “Not work-related, but I just started…”
• “This is my guilty pleasure read…”

As if fiction needed to be excused. As if pleasure needed to be justified. As if reading a novel—especially in a professional space—might signal something unserious.

And I found myself wondering: Why do we do that? Specifically, what do we feel the need to caveat our choice to read fiction? And more generally, why do we feel the need to cushion certain choices with explanations?

It’s not just about books. I see this play out with clients all the time—especially women navigating leadership in mission-driven work. We’re constantly filtering our answers through a lens of acceptability.

We hedge. We soften. We shrink the parts of ourselves that might feel “off-brand.”

Someone will name a goal that matters deeply to them—like stepping back from the day-to-day, or creating more white space—and then immediately follow it with: “I know that probably sounds self-indulgent.” or “I’m not trying to check out, I just…”

As if our contributions require a footnote.

There’s this quiet pressure so many of us carry to explain ourselves at all times. To preempt judgment. To prove that even our joy is productive. To make sure our desires don’t come across as self-indulgent, unserious, or too far from the expected script.

And here’s the truth I’ve learned in my own leadership (and from sitting across from so many incredible women):

You do not need to explain yourself.

You do not need to defend the book you’re reading, the job you want, the dream you have, or the version of leadership that feels most like you.

If it aligns with your values, if it restores something in you, if it allows you to show up as your fullest self…That’s reason enough.

So today, a gentle challenge:

What’s one thing you’ve been justifying lately that maybe doesn’t need a justification? The genre you read. The career move you’re craving. The boundary you’re trying to hold. The day off that you’re planning. The version of leadership you’re stepping into—even if it looks different than what others expect.

Where could you let yourself drop the disclaimer and just say: This is what I choose. This is what I need. This is who I am. No justification required.

I’d love to know: where is this showing up for you lately?