The Rollercoaster of Leadership

Photo by Brooke Lark, Unsplash

In my dayjob I am a team leader. In the past three years I have gone from being a one-woman team into a team of 5 and by next month it seems like it will be a team of two. the work is tough. The demand on the brain and the body (long nights, early days, lost weekends) is tough. I do my best to lead by example. To never ask my team to do anything I haven't done before or couldn;t do myself. I do my best to teach and mentor whenever I can but that, too, is tough given the workloads and the deadlines.

Leadership is often romanticized as a position of power, clarity, and control. But if I were to distill my experience today into a single word, it would be rollercoaster. There were moments of sharp ascent—clear breakthroughs, decisive actions, and a sense of purpose. But just as quickly, there were plunges—moments where the weight of decisions to be made pressed down like gravity, pulling me into the tangled complexity of facts, emotions, and consequences.

As a leader, I am both a teacher and a student. I guide others, offering wisdom gleaned from my own experiences, yet at the same time, I am constantly learning—about the work itself, about the people I work with, about the nuanced dynamics of teams, and about myself. Today was a reminder of just how delicate that balance can be.

Every leader eventually faces moments when decisions are not simply strategic; they are personal. Today, I had to weigh stories against statistics, actions against their ripple effects. Each decision felt like walking a tightrope between logic and empathy. The process was exhausting. Do I choose the path that moves us forward faster, even if it means leaving someone behind? Or do I slow down, knowing that keeping the team together might come at the cost of momentum?

What people don’t often see is the loneliness that comes with these decisions. The quiet moments before and after where you question yourself: Am I doing what’s right? The weight of knowing that your choices will impact not just the bottom line, but the lives and psyches of those who trust you, is a burden that doesn’t lighten with time.

In the chaos of leadership, it’s easy to forget that leaders are part of the team, not above it. Today, as I navigated the emotional landscape of others, I found myself yearning for something I had barely acknowledged: my own need for psychological safety.

To lead effectively, I also need to feel considered. I also need to feel heard. Leadership doesn’t exempt me from these human needs—it magnifies them. Yet, there is an unspoken expectation that leaders are immune to the same vulnerabilities they help others navigate.

I realized today that while I am responsible for creating a safe space for my team, I must also advocate for my own. It’s not selfish to seek consideration; it’s essential. Leaders cannot pour from an empty cup, and no matter how strong I strive to appear, I cannot bear the weight of leadership alone.

As the day winds down, I am left with the echoes of conversations, the weight of decisions I am about to make, and the lessons learned. Leadership is not about being invincible. It’s about being present—showing up with all your imperfections, navigating the rollercoaster with courage, and embracing the dual role of guide and companion.

I don’t have all the answers. I don’t think I ever will. But maybe that’s the point. To lead is not to know everything—it’s to keep learning, to keep showing up, and to keep reminding myself that I, too, am part of this messy thing we call a team.

Tomorrow, the ride continues. But for now, I breathe, reflect, and give myself permission to simply be human.