When I stepped into my first executive role, I thought I’d made it. Years of sacrificing and delivering, pushing and proving myself, and here I was. The climb was over. Time to finally exhale.
I was wrong.
I made an offhand comment in a meeting and learned a week later it had spread through the team as a decision that created unnecessary work.
I kept doing the work I was good at instead of doing what the role needed: building my team’s ability to do those things well themselves.
I forgot to narrate. I assumed my team knew what I was thinking, so they couldn’t understand why I kept rewriting their drafts or see which projects mattered most.
And I’m far from alone. Over 25 years in-house at corporate and not-for-profit organizations, I advised executives while being one. Now, as an independent advisor, I still see the same pattern: many leaders treat a VP, C-suite, or executive director title as the final destination. It’s a common trap for high performers.
Senior leadership isn’t the end of anything. It’s the beginning of the part that counts most. The stakes are higher. The accountability is bigger. And more people are watching you more closely than ever before.
The Title Isn’t the Reward You Think It Is
Celebrate the promotion. It’s a major milestone. The status is nice.
But the real point is how you embrace the responsibility: for the results, the culture, the people, and the standards of your organization.
The seat itself isn’t the reward. How you change things for the better is.
What I’d Tell Myself on Day One of Senior Leadership
Looking back, the fixes come down to three things.
Clarity: have it, then give it. In senior leadership, a passing thought can travel as a decision or directive. Before you speak, know whether you’re thinking out loud or making a call, and say which. Then narrate your thinking. When you send back a draft or set a deadline, give the reason and say where it sits in the priority order. Here’s a quick test: could someone on your team name your top three priorities, in order, without checking with you? If not, they’re guessing.
Courage: say the hard thing, and hear it. Leaders brace themselves to deliver difficult messages. The harder skill is receiving them. From the new seat, your team sees things you can’t, and many won’t tell you unless you make it safe. Ask directly: “What am I missing?” or “What’s one thing I’m doing that makes your job harder?” Then listen without defending yourself. How you respond the first time determines whether they tell you a second time.
Connection: let them know you, and get to know them. Even if you’ve worked with them for years, the title changes the relationship. Tell them how you work, what you value, and what you’re still figuring out. Then make the effort to learn what motivates each of them, and hand off work with the context they need. Your job is no longer to do the work well. It’s to create the conditions for your team to do it better than you ever did.
Why Small Habits Matter More at the Top
None of these are big moves. That’s the point.
Your behaviour sets the standard. Your silence shapes the culture. Your team mirrors your clarity, absorbs your hesitation, and interprets your inconsistencies. They watch what you tolerate more closely than what you say.
At this level, small habits carry far. They reach beyond your directs to your leadership table, the broader team, your board, and the shareholders, donors, or communities counting on your organization.
You haven’t arrived. You’ve reached the point where the work that defines your legacy begins.
You Don’t Have to Go It Alone
In that first role, I didn’t need someone to tell me where to go. I needed someone outside the room to help me see where I was.
Whether you’re in your first year in the seat, or you’ve been there a while and the role suddenly feels new again, a second set of eyes on how your thinking is reaching your team can help. Let’s talk.