Sis, Get You a Plan
How Creating an Individual Leadership Plan (ILP) and Joining a Cohort of Black Women Changed My Life
Let me just start by saying this: I thought I was organized. I had a planner, a Pinterest board, and even one of those fancy dry-erase calendars that sits on the fridge looking important. But whew, baby, life has a way of reminding you that cute stationery is not a substitute for strategy.
I was juggling so many roles—wife, mother, student, employee, dream-chaser, over-thinker, daughter, and part-time motivational speaker (to myself in the mirror)—that I didn’t realize I was moving without direction. I was busy, but not always productive. I was showing up, but not always with purpose. I knew I had leadership potential, but I didn’t have a plan to actually grow into the woman I envisioned.
Enter the Individual Leadership Plan, or as I now call it, “My Blueprint to Black Girl Magic—But Make It Structured.”
What is an Individual Leadership Plan?
Think of it like GPS for your growth. It’s a personal, intentional, and purpose-driven roadmap that helps you identify who you are, where you’re going, and how you plan to get there. It's not just about setting goals—it's about aligning your values, your vision, and your voice so that your leadership feels like you, not like what the world thinks a leader should be.
There are already so many weights we carry as black women, so why add to that load by just winging it?
Creating my ILP pushed me to do the work—the internal work. It asked the hard questions:
What are my core values?
What kind of leader do I want to be?
Who am I when no one’s watching?
Am I happy with the leader that I currently am?
Let me tell you, those reflective questions had me staring at my notes like, “Excuse me Ma’am... who sent you?!”
To be honest, I’ve never sat with myself long enough to ask those questions. I strived to model after the leaders I’ve been fortunate, and not so fortunate, to have in my life to learn the do’s and don’ts of leading. I never thought Rebecca’s impact was meaningful enough, or that it even mattered, because I was so used to running on autopilot (I blame the military) of just focusing on the job. But through those honest reflections, I stopped shrinking in spaces where I was meant to lead. I stopped questioning my instincts. I began to empower myself and reframe my mind about who I am. I began to move like a woman who not only deserved to be in the room but also brought the room with her.
The Power of Community: A Cohort That Spoke My Language
Listen. There’s something sacred about being in a space where you don’t have to explain your tone, your hair, your ambition, or your exhaustion. Being a part of a society of women dedicated to uplifting Black women professionals was like finding water in the middle of a dry season.
We weren’t competing—we were collaborating. We weren’t side-eyeing—we were affirming. When one of us won, we ALL won.
Through my YCF Cohort, I gained:
Accountability – There’s nothing like having another Black woman check in like, “Hey, did you finish your personal mission statement or nah?” And you can’t even be mad because she said it with love.
Perspective – I realized I wasn’t the only one feeling imposter syndrome or wondering if I was doing enough. That vulnerability made room for growth.
Laughter – Because sometimes you just need someone to say, “Girl, these jobs lucky to have us!” while sipping wine and updating their resume.
This cohort gave me sisterhood AND strategy. And let me tell you—when those two meet? Baby, that's divine alignment.
Growth Isn’t Always Cute, But It’s Always Worth It
I’d be lying if I said the process was always graceful. Growth required me to be uncomfortable, to face parts of myself I had ignored, and to admit when I wasn’t showing up fully. It also made me realize true change occurs when you extend grace and understanding to yourself through the process. There were days I stared at my leadership goals and thought, “Whew, this ain’t giving soft life…”
But I kept showing up.
I learned how to:
Use my voice for myself, not just to push someone else’s vision, programs, etc.
Set boundaries, even when it was uncomfortable (read: especially when it was uncomfortable).
Take up space, unapologetically.
And somewhere between vision boarding and actual implementation, I stopped leading from a place of performance and started leading from a place of purpose.
Funny (But Real) Lessons I Learned Along the Way
Because let’s be honest—it wasn’t all quotes and deep reflections. There were moments:
I once tried to write my leadership goals in one sitting like I was submitting a group chat message. Big mistake. The goals were giving “vague LinkedIn post” and not “real-life plan.”
I had to learn that “rest” is not a reward; it’s a requirement. One of the leaders in our group said, “You can’t lead others if your cup is dry,” and I felt that in my soul.
I learned to stop romanticizing struggle and stop subscribing to social media that did as well. If you’re constantly in survival mode, you’re not leading—you’re just trying to breathe. And breathing shouldn’t be a luxury.
Why You Should Join a Cohort Like This One
I’m not here to sell you dreams. I’m here to tell you that leadership isn’t a title—it’s a posture. And if you’ve been trying to do it all alone, I promise you, there’s a better way. Even if you’re a good leader, because I for sure was a good leader prior to joining YCF, stepping into this space allowed me to be better. Iron sharpens Iron and that’s exactly what the leadership, mentorship, and community of sisters have done for me. And is still doing!
Joining a cohort of Black women committed to growing personally and professionally will give you:
A network of truth-tellers and cheerleaders
Resources and tools that actually work for black women
A sense of belonging in a world that sometimes forgets your worth
Most importantly, it gives you “you”—the real you, the confident you, the version of you that’s been waiting for permission to step forward.
Well, sis—consider this your permission slip.
Creating my Individual Leadership Plan helped me get clear on who I am and who I’m becoming. But doing it with other Black women? That’s what made it transformational. We don’t need to be saved. We need to be seen. We need safe spaces that don’t dilute our brilliance or question our tone. We need each other.
So, if you’ve been on the fence about joining a leadership cohort for Black women professionals—JUMP! You deserve support that sees your whole self and strategy that matches your ambition (not dims it).
And if nobody told you lately:
You are not behind. You are not too much. You are not asking for too much.
You are becoming—and that’s beautiful.
Now go ahead and create your plan, fix your crown, and step into rooms like your ancestors built them.
I’m rooting for you. Always.
This article was contributed by Rebecca Lumpkin; Communal Good CEO; You Can’t Fail, Inc. Leadership Learning Community Class of 2024 Alumna.
