CEO? No Sir, Not Anymore!

“What do you do at LexiConn?” asked a prospective client on a web call. “Ah! I am the CEO”, I said. “Oh. Okay. That’s great. Nice of you to join the call”, she said. Pleasantly surprised.

On some other occasions, I would introduce myself as the Founder, at times the Director, or even the Strategy Head, someone from the company Management, a senior colleague, or whatever other designation the context of the meeting demanded. Wait, there are more.

A Senior Manager in the morning, a Purchase Officer in the afternoon, an HR in the evening, an Accountant on weekends, a Copywriter during a crisis, a Marketer every fortnight, a Salesman every moment, and yes, an Office Boy (secretly of course). If you’ve worked in a small company, none of this is surprising. You probably know that CEO is short for “Chief Everything Officer”. We hustle. People assume we doing nothing. In reality, there is nothing we don’t do.

It is with such jugaad or “resourcefulness” that I’ve built my company. Being “bootstrapped” is an enterprising brain’s version of being “cash-strapped”. But, gradually, things change. We celebrated our 13th Foundation Day this week. As a colleague put it, our company is now a teenager, can’t say what new demands it will make in the coming years.

But here is the problem with milestones. As long as you stay in the game, "relevant experience" keeps adding up. A foundation day, a marriage anniversary, a birthday, your country's independence, or the work experience on your CV. These are just numbers. “More” doesn’t always mean “better”.

A wise entrepreneur-mentor once asked me, “What is your company’s growth target for this year?”. “30% on the top line, sir”, I cooked up a reasonable-sounding number (point to be noted - as small entrepreneurs, we don’t have growth targets, we have survival goals). He said, “Great. Tell me, are you and your team 30% better than last year? What new skills and abilities have you built to achieve this goal?” My MBA brain immediately made up the logical answers, but my conscious-self understood the more profound question and chose to keep quiet.

Luckily, the pandemic gave me the space and time to become a part of a meditative and reflective environment. I now have access to a unique ecosystem of conscious individuals who help me understand myself and my emotions, down-to-earth mentors who course-correct me and dare me to dream big, a “trust group” that never lets me off the hook, and above all, colleagues who love me with all my flaws and vulnerabilities. Lucky, right?

Isn't it strange how things change? If you let them change? Like I realised, I played "CEO" not because of external constraints but because of my "need for control" and my "lust for perfection". I didn't share wholeheartedly due to my fears and insecurities. Being a workaholic martyr doesn’t earn admiration; it breeds worn-out colleagues. Being a micromanager does not guarantee efficiency; it produces fickle relationships. And these are not the ingredients you need if you aspire to build a happy and progressive workplace, or a peaceful family.

Hence, without further ado, I took action. Two seasoned colleagues supported me when I proposed that it was time for me to stop being so many things, and start being myself. They agreed to take over most of my responsibilities so that I could start something new.

Now, like everyone at LexiConn, I am also expected to play to my strengths. I am forever indebted to all my team members for letting me be “me”.?

So if you find me on a call and ask me, “What do you do at LexiConn? Are you the CEO?” I’ll say,?

“CEO? No Sir, Not Anymore!”