
When Roy walked into my coaching room for the first time, success already sat comfortably on his shoulders. Fast promotions. Consistent results. A reputation for being dependable—the one who “got things done.” And yet, he was exhausted.
“I’m doing more than ever,” he said, almost apologetically. “But it feels like I’m moving less.”
Roy had just stepped into a senior leadership role. On paper, it was progress. In reality, it felt like pressure. His calendar was full, his mind constantly racing, and his days packed with decisions he used to pride himself on handling personally. Somewhere between back-to-back meetings and late-night catch-ups, the joy had quietly slipped away.
The pattern
As we spoke, a pattern became clear. Roy was still leading the way he had when he was three levels below—hands-on, detail-oriented, deeply involved in execution. That approach had once been his strength. Now, it was the very thing holding him back.
Growth often demands a paradox: the behaviors that helped you rise can become obstacles to rising further.
In one session, I asked him a simple but uncomfortable question:
Who are you trying to protect by holding on to all this work?
He paused. Then admitted, “The version of me that feels valuable when I’m needed.”
That moment shifted everything.
Mindset Shift
Roy realized that his identity was tied to being the expert, the fixer, the safest pair of hands in the room. Letting go felt risky—not just professionally, but emotionally. Delegating wasn’t just about transferring tasks; it felt like surrendering relevance.
We explored reflective questions that slowly helped him loosen his grip:
- What am I holding on to because it once defined my success?
- What requires my judgment now—and what simply requires trust?
- If I step back, what space might open up for me to think, to lead, to envision?
Delegation became our central theme—but not as a mechanical skill. As a mindset shift.
Roy began by delegating work he enjoyed the most. The kind that made him feel competent and in control. It was uncomfortable. At times, frustrating. His team approached problems differently. Their styles didn’t mirror his. Their decisions weren’t always what he would have chosen.
“That’s wrong,” he said once, mid-sentence—then stopped.
“No,” he corrected himself. “It’s just… different.”
That distinction mattered.
Outgrowing your past self
As Roy allowed his team to execute in their own ways, something unexpected happened. They stepped up. Took ownership. Brought ideas he would never have considered. And slowly, his role began to change—from doer to guide, from expert to enabler.
With less time spent in execution, Roy found mental space he hadn’t realized he was missing. Space to think strategically. To anticipate rather than react. To lead conversations instead of tasks.
In one of our later sessions, he reflected, “I thought letting go would make me smaller. It actually made me more effective.”
That’s the quiet truth about growth.
Outgrowing who you used to be doesn’t mean rejecting your past strengths. It means honouring them—and then knowing when to evolve beyond them. Leadership at higher levels isn’t about doing more. It’s about thinking differently, trusting deeply, and allowing others to shine in ways that don’t look like you.
Growth asks for courage. Not the loud kind—but the subtle bravery of releasing old identities to make room for new ones.
And often, the hardest part of moving forward is accepting that the version of you that brought you here cannot take you where you’re meant to go next.
