It’s lonely at the top
“It’s lonely at the top”
This week I was talking to a female leader in business, she’s got a seat at THE table.
She’s driven, engaged and, frankly, shit hot. She’s in charge of a global team. And this week she said to me that she’s lonely.
That’s why she’s joined my Coach in your Pocket programme because she wanted community, consultancy and somewhere to lean. She was sick of second-guessing herself on her decision making, she still worried she was going to get found out and she is still shit hot, showing up every single day cracking on.
She confidently leads the meetings, makes the tough decisions and seems to have it all figured out. And yet the constant juggling of high-stakes decisions with personal responsibilities, with the heavy lifting of the mental load and life maintenance load, the bastard menopause combined with the pressure to maintain that "I've got this" facade when sometimes, honestly, she told me, she’s hanging on by a thread.
Then we had a good laugh about how ridiculous it all is and how we should know better because she knows all the things and yet she’s still more frazzled than Monica’s hair in a hot climate. She cried, we talked, we laughed, we did some work.
The simple fact is; it is lonely at the top. I get that. I’ve owned my own business for 22 years navigating through two kids, marriage, the now ex-husband failing to tell me his business was going bump a week before the bank closed all our accounts so I had no access to nothing. There may have been a few reasons why he’s now an ex. Years as a single mum and the dating nightmares (there’s a TV series in those dating stories; including the one where the guy forgot to tell me he’d been in prison for kidnapping) meant I spent quite a lot of time feeling a bit lonely.
I survived with a lot of wine, some snot bubbles, a bit of rocking in the corner of the kitchen after I’d put the kids to bed and I leaned into my community, the girls around me picked me up and they held me up. It’s one of the many reasons why I am so blinking passionate about us women coming together to encourage, cheerlead, kindly challenge and support each other. And let’s face it, sometimes we need someone to say ‘Stop being a dick, Doris, you’re overthinking this.’ And then look at the actual strategies that can help you move away from the overwhelm and overthinking. ; )
I’m not talking about those weird women that gatekeep, that say ‘yes, absolutely I’ll help and then tumbleweed’, I’m talking about the real women; the women that want other women to succeed. The women that want other women to lean in, that welcome them in.
This is my mission. It’s my call to action. I’m making myself the standard bearer for encouraging, building and saying FFS a lot, for women coming together, for sharing and supporting. It’s about women championing women, connecting, collaborating and debating dresses with pockets.
The reality is, despite our success, despite breaking those glass ceilings, it can feel isolating. It’s about having a place to turn where other women get it. My husband (the new one) is fabulous (most of the time, except when he snores or breathes on the wrong day) but I also crave the conversation of women who understand business, the challenges, the crisis, the crap.
Women who understand both the professional pressures AND the unique challenges of being a midlife woman in leadership, in business, in being a female founder.
This isn't just about having someone to vent to – it's about having a support system that gets it. That understands why you're checking your phone during your kid's football match and why you sometimes need to reschedule meetings because, well, menopause brain is real.
So here's what I want you to know:
You're not alone in feeling alone. There are thousands of us out here, navigating the same waters. Let’s talk more.
Your struggles don't make you any less capable – they make you human. Let’s celebrate this.
It's okay to admit that being a high-achieving woman in midlife comes with unique challenges. Let’s talk more.
Seeking support isn't a sign of weakness – it's a strategy for sustainability. Let’s celebrate this.
That's why I’m writing - to you.
To simply remind you that while it might feel lonely at the top, you're part of a powerful, albeit often invisible, network of women who understand exactly what you're going through.
I see you, I get it, and take a goddamn bow, because frankly you’re f*cking amazing.
You've got this, and more importantly, you've got me in your corner. If you ever fancy a chat, give me a shout.
With understanding and solidarity,
Laters
Sarah
x
