What Founders Don’t Say Out Loud
You can build the thing you always wanted and still feel trapped by it.
I did a work out class this morning and the sweetest girl stopped to me tell me how inspirational my posts are and it hit me…there aren’t a ton of people talking about the current journey of being a founder. This might get repetitive but I won’t stop talking about my journey.
Let me start with the truth I wish someone told me earlier:
Success doesn’t feel the way you think it will.
It’s not this blissful summit you reach, where the view is clear and the air is thin and you get to coast. It’s not a finish line. It’s not a relief. And it definitely doesn’t mean the work gets easier.
In fact, sometimes success feels like a new kind of suffocation, just with nicer office furniture and a shinier logo.
I know that sounds ungrateful. But if you’re a founder, you know exactly what I’m talking about. There’s a version of this story that’s not being told enough. One that lives in the silence between the brand launches, the growth milestones, the press hits, the congratulatory emails. And it’s this:
Sometimes, you build the dream…. and then it builds a cage around you.
The Quiet Resentment That No One Warns You About
Let’s go there.
There are days when I wake up and I don’t feel proud. I feel… stuck.
Trapped in meetings. Tapped out of ideas. Tired of being the one who has to have the answers.I love what I built. But I don’t always love what it takes from me.
That’s not a sentence you’re supposed to say as a founder. Especially not as a successful one.
The expectation is that you’re obsessed with your company. That you wake up buzzing with ideas. That you lead with passion and live for the challenge. That you're so "lucky" to do what you love.
And sure, sometimes that’s true.
But what’s also true is that some seasons of this journey don’t feel creative…they feel mechanical.
Some days, you don’t feel like a visionary. You feel like a glorified firefighter.
Some days, your company doesn’t feel like an extension of you… it feels like a beast you’re just trying to keep fed.
We don’t talk enough about the emotional tax of being “the one in charge.”
The pressure to show up, even when you’re crumbling.
The expectation that you’re supposed to be both deeply strategic and endlessly optimistic.
The guilt you feel when your ambition becomes exhaustion.
The loneliness of having no one above you, but everyone relying on you.
When Your Dream Job Starts to Hurt
No one tells you how strange it is to outgrow your own role.
To realize that the thing you once obsessed over… every Instagram caption, every sample review, every email subject line…now gets delegated. That your job is no longer to do the work, but to own the outcome.
And that shift? It’s not always satisfying. In fact, sometimes it makes you question whether you’re still good at anything.
There’s also this uncomfortable truth: the bigger your company gets, the more invisible your effort becomes.
No one sees the 2am spiral because a hire didn’t work out.
No one sees the emotional load of managing a team while also managing your own burnout.
No one sees the pressure of leading with grace when you’re actually full of doubt.
They just see the end product: the campaign. The product drop. The revenue spike. The photoshoot. The glowing testimonial.
But they don’t see you, the person behind it, quietly unraveling.
Leadership Isn’t Just About Vision. It’s About Survival.
There were moments when I genuinely wondered: Do I still want this?
And let me be very clear… I’m not talking about quitting in the dramatic, “burn it all down” kind of way.
I’m talking about the quieter kind of disconnection. The kind where you start showing up to your own meetings like a guest. The kind where you feel like a ghost inside your own brand. The kind where your own success starts to feel like a job you didn’t apply for.
I think this is what we get wrong when we idolize founders: we forget that they’re people, not machines.
You can be successful and still deeply confused.
You can be grateful and still completely overwhelmed.
You can build a brand that inspires people… and still need help figuring out how to inspire yourself again.
And that’s the work no one sees. That’s the version of leadership that doesn’t fit neatly into a LinkedIn post.
If You’re Feeling This, You’re Not Alone
I’m writing this because I know I’m not the only one who’s felt this way and feels this way.
I know there’s a founder out there scrolling through Slack, powering through emails, prepping for a board meeting (if you have investors) all while feeling numb. Or anxious. Or deeply, bone-tired.
This is for the founder who’s outgrown the hustle, but doesn’t know how to slow down.
The one who’s sick of being “on brand.”
The one who’s quietly grieving the version of themselves they lost in order to grow the business.
Here’s what I want to say to that version of you:
You are not crazy. You are not broken. You are not ungrateful.
You are human. You’re carrying an extraordinary weight. And just because you can carry it, doesn’t mean it’s not heavy.
You don’t owe anyone a highlight reel.
You don’t have to pretend it’s fun all the time.
And you’re allowed to rebuild your relationship with your business…even after you’ve “made it.”
What I’m Learning (Still, Every Day)
I don’t have a 5-step recovery plan. I’m still in it.
But I’m trying to make space for myself again.
To lead without losing myself.
To run a business I’m proud of without abandoning the person who built it.
And I’m learning this:
It’s okay to pause.
It’s okay to change your mind.
It’s okay to evolve.
Because the founder who started this brand? She was scrappy and brave and relentless. It feels weird to write that about myself, but it’s true and I feel it to my core.
But the founder who stays? She has to be honest, or she won’t survive it.
So here’s my real answer, next time someone asks what it’s like to run a successful company:
It’s everything I ever wanted, and also, the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
It’s beautiful, and brutal.
It’s fulfilling, and occasionally soul-draining.
It’s a privilege, and it’s a pressure.
And it’s worth it, not because it’s easy, but because I’m finally doing it in a way that feels real.
Even on the hard days.
Even when I don’t feel like the founder.
Even when I have to say the quiet part out loud.
XO LC
My favorite person to follow / to read from !!! Thank you for giving us all permission.
Wow.. I couldn’t relate more with this!!