There’s a sentence you hear all the time in CEO circles: “You get paid the big bucks to take on all the pressure.” Finances. The future. The hard calls. The uncertainty.

And right behind it comes the unspoken rule: keep your mouth shut unless you want to freak everyone out. You’ll scare team members. Partners will get nervous. People will start looking for a job. Performance will drop. So hold it to yourself. Carry the weight. Be the steady one.

I bought that story for a long time. It also got me in trouble.

Because I tried to carry everything like the company’s future depended on me holding it together and pushing through, no matter what. Like I was supposed to be some kind of emotional shock absorber for everyone else. And then I hit my wall.

I wish I could tell you it was a graceful moment. It wasn’t. It was me realizing I’d been acting like I could outwork being human. I had to admit something I used to think was reserved for other people: I’m not a robot. I’m not immune to anxiety.

Hello humility.

I used to think anxiety was something other people dealt with. And then life handed me my own dose, and I realized I wasn’t different. I was just human. So…time for a new outlook.

 

The fork in the road

Recently at karmadharma, we faced some tough decisions. At the same time, we’ve got a young leadership team preparing to take over over the next few years and steward our next chapter. They’re smart. They care. They’re hungry. They’re also early in their reps.

And I had this fork in the road: Do I share what’s really going on? Or do I take it on myself because they don’t have enough experience yet?

Conventional wisdom says: protect them from it. Don’t freak people out. Don’t sow fear. Don’t distract them. Keep them focused. Carry the weight yourself. That’s what the CEO is for.

But I decided not to buy into that.

I shared, transparently, where we’re at. Numbers on the table. P&L wide open. Past performance. Projected future. What’s working. What’s not. Potential decisions we have to make.

Not to be dramatic. Not as a “the sky is falling” moment. Not to scare anyone off. Just reality.

Because if these are future leaders, they’re going to face moments like this anyway. And I started asking myself: what better way to learn than being thrown into the mess with real stakes and figuring out how you want to show up?

 

The part we don’t talk about

After that meeting, did it sit with them? Of course it did.

That’s life. You don’t just turn off work when you leave the door, especially in a small business, especially when decisions you’re making could shape the future of your team, your colleagues, your clients, your own career. I’m not glorifying burnout. I’m saying the clock doesn’t always shut off just because it’s 5 p.m.

And maybe the bigger point is this: We keep pretending leadership is clean and certain. It’s not.

You talk to enough CEOs, and you realize everyone has a plan, and simultaneously, everyone is winging it, because nobody controls how things turn out. We want certainty so badly. But the truth is, we only control what we do right now. We don’t control the outcomes. Not fully. Not ever.

 

So how much is healthy to share?

This is where it gets messy, because I don’t think the answer is “share everything” or “share nothing.” There’s a difference between transparency that builds leadership and transparency that creates fear and noise.

If I share in a way that feels like I’m dumping my anxiety into the room, that’s not leadership. That’s me looking for relief.

But if I share the reality with a container, with context, with a path, with a clear ask, transparency becomes a leadership development tool. It becomes a way for the team to build the muscles they’ll need anyway.

Because growth usually happens through adversity. Through being thrown into the fog of war with imperfect information, no guaranteed outcomes, and still needing to make decisions. Decisions that might not pan out. Decisions that might have consequences for people you care about. That’s the part of leadership nobody can fully prepare you for on a slide deck.

 

Where I’m shifting the beliefs I hold

If you’re building something bigger than yourself, and you’re not a solopreneur, your decisions affect other people. And if other people are going to grow into leaders, they need to experience what it’s like to carry a piece of the load.

Not all of it. Not in a reckless way. Not in a way that makes them feel unsafe or like the ground is constantly shifting under them. But enough that they learn what entrepreneurship actually is.

Because entrepreneurship is a lifestyle choice. There are no guarantees. We’re seeing layoffs everywhere. Even “safe” jobs are not always safe.

So maybe the question isn’t “how do I protect people from uncertainty?” Maybe the question is: How do I help people become the kind of humans who can handle uncertainty?

 

Where I’m landing, for now

I don’t want to sow fear, and I don’t want to freak people out. I also don’t want to carry it all alone and pretend that’s noble.

So I’m leaning into this: We share the opportunity of finding a path forward. We share the reality of the unknown. We share the consequences, both the wins and the misses. Because that’s how you grow and go pro as a team. Period.

 

I’m curious where you land

If you’re a CEO, or you’ve been close to a CEO during hard times: How much do you share when things are uncertain? Where’s the line between healthy transparency and unnecessary stress? What have you learned the hard way?

There is clearly not one right answer, but I do think there’s a real conversation here that we aren’t having enough.