Why I Stopped Being a CEO for Someone Else and Became a Founder

It’s International Women’s Day. I can’t think of a better day to dispel bullshit.

A lot of people ask me why I dropped out of Corporate America and started my own business. When people ask this question, they’re legitimately perplexed. They see I reached the highest level in my career and wonder why anyone would give that up.

I was a CEO after all. Most people ask and really want to understand my choice. A smaller percentage of people ask and presume I sucked at my job. They think there must be something wrong with me. I can assure you I was an excellent CEO. It wasn’t a competence or performance thing.

I was tired.

I wasn’t lacking in stamina, as I still have the stamina of someone half my age. I was tired of fighting the same battle I’ve been fighting since my early 20’s.

When I started my career, I noticed 2 things: I was often the only woman in the room and the youngest person in the room. I told myself that would change as I gained more experience and the world around me changed.

Guess what? It hasn’t. The rooms have become C-suites and board rooms, and I’m STILL the only woman. Frequently, I’m still the youngest. ?

I’m 50 – not exactly young. So, how can that be!?!?!?

Well, let’s zoom out. As Lindsay Kaplan, co-founder of Chief recently noted in her sobering Fortune article, the numbers aren’t moving in the right direction. Only 8% of CEO’s are women. A paltry 8% in a world where we make up 51% of the population and make most of the purchasing decisions for our households.

The gender pay gap hasn’t moved in 15 years. Women earned 83 cents for every man’s dollar in 2020. That gap is bigger for women of color, and it also grows as women ascend the corporate ladder. I know that first-hand. As a female CEO, I made less than my male peers in private equity-backed companies.

It’s not much better for female entrepreneurs. Last year, VC funds awarded a record $330 billion. Women founders only received 2% of that pie, the smallest share since 2016.

The pace of change is excruciatingly slow. According to the World Economic Forum, it will take 237 years for women to reach parity in both economic participation and opportunity.

Our differences give us unique perspectives. But when you’re the only different-looking person in a room, you often find yourself fighting an uphill battle. Decisions that would be simple in a more diverse room become exhausting. Every discussion has the potential to be a field full of landmines. You meet with hostility over the most basic things. It falls on you to educate a room full of white guys on things they should know. They’re not always open to what you have to say.

I was reminded yesterday why I Ieft that world. It’s a soul crusher, full of stubborn dunces who don’t want to listen or learn. And I’m writing this as a woman who has endured enormous hardship in my life. I’m no snowflake (whatever that means).

I am a person with feelings, though. And I can read a room really well. I know when I’m not wanted.

We women struggle to balance our own self-esteem with the greater good. We know we should stay in the game and keep fighting the good fight. Conversely, we know that life is short, and our own fulfillment and sanity matters too.

We don’t want to throw in the towel, but sometimes we need to for our own survival.

That’s what I finally did. I was at the top of my game, and I quit to create my own game. I was worn out from working so hard to convince a certain set of guys that a female CEO has the same duties as a male one. I was sick of justifying my existence.

Other exceptional women are quitting too. They’re tired of the “death by 1,000 cuts” microaggressions and the toxicity by design. They’re tired of killing it at work all day and going home and carrying the load there too.

But here’s the rub: the patriarchy loves it when we quit. That’s insurance for them...insurance that their base of power, comfort and mediocrity is safe. So, how do we preserve our sanity and make sure we’re creating the world we want for the next generation of women?

I don’t have the answer to that. I’m working on it. But I do know that I can’t save the world unless I save myself first. That’s a start.