Lately a powerful theme has been showing up in my conversations with clients: "Maybe I don't want to pursue the next big promotion."
At first, it's shared with hesitation. Sometimes guilt. And almost always accompanied by a caveat like, "I'm not sure I can be saying this to you."
For many, this hesitation stems from a belief - spoken or unspoken - the leadership coaching is about supporting people to climb higher. There's an assumption that growth always means promotion. That sucess means moving 'up.' And if you're not actively striving for the next title, then you're somehow not ambitious or committed.
But this isn't how I define leadership. Not for myself and not for my clients. To me, leadership is about how you show up - in your relationships, in your home, in your organization, in your community, in your values. And growth looks different for every person. Somestimes growth means stepping into a new role. Other times it means staying where you are and leading with deeper presence, purpose, and integrity.
In recent months, many of my clients have begun to articulate something they've been sensing for a while: that chasing the next role may come at a cost they're no longer willing to pay. They're observing senior leaders stretched thin, exhausted, sacrificing time with family, and living in a state of chronic urgency. They're seeing roles that demand compromise - of values, wellbeing, and boundaries. And they're asking the brave question: Is that the version of leadership I want to embody?
What often emerges in our conversations is a broader reassessment. For some, it's the growing realization that they've fused their sense of self with the company. As the navigate layoffs, restructurings, and shifting priorities, they begin to separate their identity from the organizations's identity. Self ≠ Company. They start to remember this: I am a person first. A whole person, with my own values, hopes, and agency.
Agency is a word that comes up often in my coaching. I've had my own dance with agency - moments where I handed it over to others' expectations, and moments where I needed to take it back. It's one of the reasons I care so deeply about helping my clients reclaim theirs. I know how quietly powerful it can be to realize: I get to choose. I've seen how easily workplaces - especially high-pressure, high-performance ones - can strip people of their agency. Or rather, how people slowly give it away, in exchange for approval, security, or belonging. But that agency is never truly gone. It can be reclaimed. And I see clients doing just that - reconnecting with their own inner voice, rediscovering their ability to choose, and redefining what meaningful leadership looks like for them.
Fear is present too. In an uncertain economy, many people feel its safer to stay quiet, keep their head down, and protect what they have. They worry that speaking up or optiing out might signal a lack of ambition - that it might jeopardize their credibility or make them seen dispensable.
But I don't see it that way. I see discernment and courage. I see people pausing long enough to ask: What matters most to me now? What does success really mean - not just professionally, but as a human being? What kind of leader do I want to be - and for whom?
Relocation pressures are surfacing too. More people are being asked to move for their roles - sometimes without much regard for the lives they've built in their communities. Moving is no longer simple. The cost of housing, the disruption to family, the loss of commnuity - these are not small asks. And people are beginning to say: No. Or at least: Let me think about what's truly right for me and my family.
In all of this, I see a deeper reckoning. People are reimagining leadership - not as something they must contort themselves to fit into, but as something they can shape on their own terms. They're waking up to the idea that leadership is not about hierarchy, but about alignment with values, truth, and what matters most.
In my coaching, my role isn't to steer anyone in any particular direction. It's to create a space - free of judgment, full of honesty - where people can tell the truth to themselves. Where they can explore what's possible, what's enough, and what leadership looks like when it's rooted in wholeness, not hustle.
I've been doing some of this reflecting myself - asking what kind of work fuesl me most, how I want to spend my time, and how I want to show up in the spaces I care about. I'm not immune to the noise of the pressure either.
If you're sitting with the quiet thought that maybe you don't want the next promotion - maybe you're right where you want or need to be - know this: You're not alone and you are not failing. And it might just be the beginning of a very honest and powerful next chapter.