From Borrowed Credibility to Owned Authority: Why Founders Must Build Their Own Platforms

Lisa Maynard-Atem
Sep 7, 2025
5 min read

We’ve all done it.

Introduced ourselves by leading with the big brand we once worked for. Highlighted our proximity to influential people. Used other names to prove our worth. It feels safe because those names carry weight. They give us instant recognition and social proof. But there’s a trap: when you lean too heavily on borrowed credibility, you forget to build your own. And that is the real test of leadership. Not whose name you can drop, but what you have built that stands entirely on its own.

Lisa Maynard-Atem holding a BBC Radio 1Xtra award while wearing a bright pink dress, standing in front of the BBC Radio 1Xtra backdrop. — Receiving a BBC Radio 1Xtra award, for my work and contribution to equity and inclusion.

The seduction of borrowed credibility

Borrowed credibility is seductive because it works. If you’ve worked for a household name, or you’re closely associated with a high-profile individual, people listen differently. Doors open more quickly. Conversations start more easily.

In the early stages of a career or business, it can be a lifeline. It’s scaffolding, something that props you up while you’re laying foundations. For many founders, it’s the shorthand that gets them into rooms they might otherwise struggle to access.

But scaffolding is temporary. It’s not meant to hold forever. If you keep leaning on borrowed credibility, you risk being defined by someone else’s story. You become “the person who worked with X” or “the one connected to Y,” instead of being recognised for what you yourself have built.

The limits of leaning

The danger with borrowed credibility is that it makes you cautious. If your authority depends on someone else’s name, you’ll always think twice about stepping out of line. You might water down your message so you don’t outshine the brand you’re associated with. You might resist creating your own platforms because you don’t want to compete with the person or organisation you’re leaning on. And slowly, without even realising it, you begin to play smaller than your potential.

What owned authority looks like

Owned authority is different. It’s when your reputation, your platform, and your opportunities are rooted in what you’ve built yourself.

It could be your consultancy, your storytelling platform, your methodology, or your movement. The common thread is that it’s yours. It doesn’t vanish if the brand disappears. It doesn’t diminish if the person you’re associated with steps away. Owned authority is about turning your insights and experiences into intellectual property. Frameworks, platforms, ecosystems that position you as a leader in your own right.

For me, this has looked like building my consultancy, developing my frameworks, and founding STYLISA FoundHers, a platform that began as an interview series and is evolving into a wider ecosystem of storytelling, connection, and funding for women entrepreneurs. These are things that stand on their own, not because of who I once worked for or who I know, but because they solve real problems in the market.

Borrowed credibility is seasoning, not the main dish

This isn’t to say you should abandon borrowed credibility entirely. There’s nothing wrong with drawing on past experiences or highlighting affiliations. They are part of your story. They can be powerful proof points. But they should be the seasoning, not the main dish.

You don’t lead with them. You don’t build your house on them. You use them to add depth to the story you’re already telling about what you’re building now.

The cost of staying in borrowed credibility

If you stay stuck in borrowed credibility, the costs are real:

You’re always a supporting act. You remain “the person who worked with…” rather than the founder of something new.
You dilute your message. You’re hesitant to own your full voice in case it feels disloyal to the brand or person you’re leaning on.
You risk being left behind. If that brand fades, or that person steps back, your authority goes with them.

The real danger is that people never get to see the full weight of what you bring. They see you only in relation to someone else.

The shift: reframing authority

Making the shift from borrowed credibility to owned authority starts with a reframe. Instead of asking, “Who have I worked for or worked with?”, ask:

What have I built that nobody else could claim?
What platforms, frameworks, or methods exist because of me?
If every brand or powerful person I’ve ever known disappeared tomorrow, what would still stand under my name?

When you ask those questions, you start to see where your energy and positioning really belong.

Practical steps to building owned authority

Audit your story. Look at your LinkedIn headline, your bio, the way you introduce yourself in meetings. Are you leading with borrowed credibility? If so, flip the order. Lead with your consultancy, your platform, your IP. Mention the rest later, if at all.
Codify your knowledge. Don’t just say you help people — package it. Create a framework, a method, or a platform. This is how expertise becomes authority.
Reframe collaborators as clients. If you’re doing significant work for organisations or individuals, position them as clients in your consultancy story. That way, the value flows to your business, not just your relationship.
Build your own platforms. Start that interview series, launch that Substack, host that event. Owned authority grows when you stop waiting for an invitation and create the stage yourself.
Use borrowed credibility sparingly. Mention your past roles or high-profile connections as context, not as your headline. Let them support your story, not define it.

A personal reflection

For a long time, I introduced myself by leaning on borrowed credibility. I highlighted the big names I’d worked with or the powerful people in my circle. And while it opened doors, I began to realise those doors weren’t fully mine to walk through.

The turning point came when I started seeing my own work. My consultancy, my platforms, my frameworks, as the real engine of my authority. The more I leaned on what I was building, the less I needed to lean on anyone else. And the irony? The more I owned my authority, the more those same big names and powerful people wanted to collaborate. Authority attracts authority.