Last year, I kept putting off a decision that actually looked pretty simple on paper.
It was around handing off a task that someone on my team was more than ready for.
Basically the work no longer needed me in the room.
But every time I got close to stepping back, I freaked out and made up stories that kept me from delegating.
I told myself it was about maintaining quality and protecting my brand which was something I'd convinced myself I'd built myself (when it's actually something I've built with teams over decades).
Turns out, I wasn't protecting the work.
I was actually protecting a version of myself that was tied to doing it.
I was protecting the scrappy me who'd spent time in the weeds and who'd painstakingly figured it out along the way.
Letting go of the task meant letting go of that identity which felt like a small death I wasn't ready for.
Most founders I talk to have some version of this.
It shows up in different ways.
And the language always sounds strategic.
"I just want to make sure it's done right."
But in truth, there's usually something older running the show.
It's usually an identity we've built without naming it.
An identity we've outgrown.
These identities aren't wrong because they got us to where we are now.
But they won't get us to where we're going.
In that sense, they've become a cage that's too close for us to notice.
A few questions worth sitting with this week:
Identity shifts in leadership rarely happen through bold declarations.
They happen in the small daily unglamorous moments:
If something in your business feels heavier than it should, take a closer look.
It may not be a strategy problem but rather identity you've outgrown that you're still clinging to without realising it.
Ash