It's lonely at the top: What it's like to be CEO
- Marion Heil
- 13. Nov.
- 9 Min. Lesezeit

Recently, I've written about the critical traps new CEOs might face (Critical Traps Even Experienced CEOs Shouldn’t Fall Into).
Many readers reached out with questions and comments about specific challenges, so I thought I'd address them in a loose series of follow-up articles.
One topic that kept coming up most: the profound loneliness of the CEO role.
So let me address this directly, because it's one of the most underestimated aspects of being CEO - and one of the hardest to prepare for until you're living it. Most new CEOs will - at some point - say something like: "I didn't expect this part. I'm surrounded by people all day, but I feel completely alone. Is that normal?"
"I didn't expect this part. I'm surrounded by people all day, but I feel completely alone."
Yes. We hear this all the time. It's completely normal. And it's one of those things you know in theory, but nothing prepares you for it until you're sitting in the chair.
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Why Nobody Warns You
I've noticed that people don't talk about CEO loneliness the way they talk about other challenges of the role. They'll warn you about board dynamics. They'll mention the time pressure. They might even talk about the stress.
But the loneliness? That stays private. Because admitting you're lonely as CEO feels like admitting weakness. Like you're not handling it well. Like maybe you're not cut out for this.
Admitting you're lonely as CEO feels like admitting weakness.
So CEOs suffer in silence, each thinking they're the only one feeling this way. They're not.
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What the Loneliness Actually Feels Like
The manifestations may be different for every CEO, but certain patterns emerge.
You're surrounded by people but can't have real conversations. Your calendar is packed. You're in back-to-back meetings. You're never physically alone. And yet, you can't be truly honest with any of the people you're talking to.
You carry weight no one else understands. You're making decisions that affect hundreds or thousands of lives. The risks keep you up at night. The complexity is overwhelming. And there's literally no one else in your organization who sees the full picture the way you do.
You can't think out loud anymore. As a functional leader, you could process ideas by talking through them. "I'm thinking about this approach, what do you think?" As CEO, people interpret your wondering as direction. Your casual questions become mandates. So you think everything through alone, in your head.
Small decisions feel enormous. Without someone to casually bounce ideas off, even relatively minor decisions require significant mental energy. You're processing everything solo.
The hunger for unvarnished truth. You know people are filtering what they tell you. You crave honest, direct feedback. But everyone's being careful, managing you, telling you what they think you want to hear. (I wrote about this in the article "Nobody is telling me the truth any more").
The missing sounding board. You want someone who will tell you directly when you're wrong, without worrying about political implications. That person doesn't exist in your normal orbit anymore.
You perform confidence you don't always feel. You walk into meetings projecting certainty about strategy while privately wrestling with doubt. You deliver town halls with clarity about direction while wondering if it's the right path. The gap between your public persona and private uncertainty grows exhausting.
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The Loneliness Isn't Constant - It Spikes
Here's something that helps to understand: the isolation you feel isn't evenly distributed throughout your day or week. It intensifies in specific moments.
When you're holding confidential information that will affect people's jobs. When you're about to make a decision that fundamentally redirects the company. When you're navigating a major crisis or significant transition. These acute moments - when you can't process out loud with anyone - are when the loneliness hits hardest.
You're sitting on information that's churning in your mind, information that will change lives, and you have to carry it alone until the right moment to share it. That particular flavor of isolation is something most people never experience.
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Why You Can't Be Honest with Anyone in Your Normal Orbit
This is the core of the problem: the structure of the CEO role creates isolation.
The structure of the CEO role creates isolation.
Your board isn't always your support system. They're evaluating you. Every conversation is, at some level, a performance review. They're deciding whether hiring you was the right choice, whether your judgment is sound, when your tenure should end. You don't want to show them the full extent of your uncertainty or self-doubt.
Your team needs you to be confident. They're looking to you for clarity and direction. They're making career decisions based on faith in your leadership. If you're too open about your doubts, you create anxiety and uncertainty. And you're also evaluating them, which fundamentally changes what they'll share with you.
Your company peers aren't safe. Everything has a political dimension. Information travels. People form alliances. There's no such thing as an off-the-record conversation inside the organization.
Even your spouse or partner can't fully understand. Unless they've been a CEO, they often can't grasp the specific weight you're carrying. They can offer emotional support, but they can't be your thinking partner on the complex strategic and political challenges you face.
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What Surprises Many CEOs About Being Open
Leaders often struggle with this one. They think they need to project total confidence and certainty at all times. That showing any doubt will undermine their authority.
But your team actually wants to see you're human. The old-school CEO model - the person who always has the answer, who never shows uncertainty - doesn't work anymore, particularly with younger employees. They want to know there's a real person making these decisions, someone who wrestles with complexity and doesn't pretend everything is obvious.
Your team actually wants to see you're human. The trick is knowing the difference between being real and dumping your anxiety on your team.
The trick is knowing the difference between being real and dumping your anxiety on your team.
There's a big difference between saying: "I'm looking at three options for expanding into the US market. They all have serious tradeoffs. Here's what I'm weighing, and I'd like your take on what I might be missing" - and saying: "I have no idea what we should do here. I'm completely overwhelmed and terrified we're making the wrong call."
The first invites people in. Shows you're thinking hard about the decision. Values their input. The second creates panic.
What you're aiming for: be honest about the complexity you're facing, but make it clear you're still the one steering the ship. You're not asking someone else to carry the weight - you're asking them to help you think it through.
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What Can Help
Beyond the major structural solutions, here are some ideas what CEOs who manage loneliness well might actually do in practice.
Build relationships with other CEOs
This is the single most valuable thing. Other CEOs understand the weight in a way no one else can. They're carrying the same burden. They get the loneliness because they're living it too.
But you need to get this right - not just any CEO group will work for you. A lot of CEOs avoid peer groups because of time constraints, skepticism about whether it'll actually be valuable, or past experiences with mismatched groups where the conversations just didn't land.
The critical factor is finding peers facing genuinely similar challenges. Someone scaling from €10 million to €100 million needs different conversations than someone managing a €2 bn. business. A venture-backed founder faces entirely different pressures than someone running a family business or a portfolio company. Industry dynamics matter too - a CEO in highly regulated pharma is dealing with different constraints than someone in tech.
The most effective peer relationships aren't about networking or comparing notes. They're about having 5 people who can genuinely say "I've been exactly where you are" and help you think through your specific situation. Look for groups where members are at similar stages facing comparable complexity, where the format creates space for real conversation (not just status updates), where confidentiality is absolute, and where there's a structured way to work through problems rather than just casual discussion.
Find your trusted advisor
Someone who deeply understands the role, has no agenda except your success, and you can be completely honest with.
This might be a former CEO who's become a mentor, a former boss, an advisor, a coach - whoever works for you. What matters is: they understand the specific challenges, and you trust them enough to show them the full picture, doubts and all.
The key word here is "trusted." Not just competent or experienced - trusted. Because you need to be able to say things to this person that you can't say to anyone else.
Accept that some loneliness is inherent
This sounds defeatist, but it's actually freeing. The loneliness isn't a sign you're doing something wrong. It's not fixable by trying harder to connect with your board or team. It's built into the structure of the role.
Once you accept this, you stop fighting it and start managing it. You're not trying to eliminate the loneliness - you're trying to make it sustainable.
You signed up to carry weight that others can't carry. That comes with isolation. Accepting that reality lets you build around it rather than exhausting yourself trying to change it.
Bring in external perspective
When you're processing everything alone, several things happen. You develop blind spots - without diverse input, you miss perspectives that would be obvious to others. You fall into confirmation bias, seeking information that validates your existing view rather than challenging it. You can't reality-test your assumptions - ideas that sound brilliant in your head might be obviously flawed to someone else. And small decisions consume enormous energy because even minor choices require extensive solo processing.
The practical approach: before making significant decisions, run them past someone who has no stake in the outcome and will be brutally honest. Not for validation - for genuine challenge. The question isn't "Do you think this is a good idea?". It's "What am I missing? Play devil's advocate - why isn't this a good idea? Where is this going to break?"
Stay connected to the actual work
Many CEOs deliberately do hands-on things – working in operations for a day, flipping burgers once a month, reviewing code, sitting in on customer calls. It's not about micromanaging; it's about staying grounded in operational reality rather than living entirely in abstraction and strategy.
Create daily connection ritualsÂ
You might want to do a virtual daily check-in where the team shares what they're working on and everybody asks for help. Not formal status updates - actual working conversations. Or you might start regular informal sessions – having a beer, taking a walk, going to a pub quiz - with the leadership team. It sounds trivial, but when isolation is your default state, even informal connection matters.
If it helps you, start a journal
When you can't think out loud with others, you may need another outlet for unprocessed thoughts. You might want to keep a daily log not just of decisions, but of the doubts, fears, and questions they can't voice elsewhere. It helps you see patterns in your thinking and gives you perspective on the journey.
Work with a therapist or executive coach
A good coach or therapist gives you someone who understands executive pressure but has zero agenda except supporting you. You can be completely honest about self-doubt, imposter syndrome, or decisions you're wrestling with.
Build actual thinking time into your calendar
Block regular time - weekly or daily - where you just think. No meetings, no performing for anyone. Just processing the complexity you're carrying. Some CEOs walk, some sit in a quiet room, some drive. The format doesn't matter; the dedicated space does.
Be selectively vulnerable with your board
You can't be completely open, but you can be strategically honest. "I'm wrestling with three options for US expansion, all with significant tradeoffs. I'd value your input" isn't weakness - it's inviting partnership.
The key: you're showing you're thoughtfully working through complexity, not that you're lost.
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What This Means for How You Lead
Understanding that loneliness is inherent to the role changes how you approach it.
Don't expect your team or board to be your emotional support system. They can't be. The power dynamics make it impossible. That's not their fault or yours - it's structural.
Invest in external support proactively. Don't wait until you're drowning. Build the peer relationships, find the trusted advisor, create the structures before you desperately need them.
Recognize when you're making decisions from a place of isolation. If you're processing everything alone, your judgment might be skewed. Use your external support to reality-test your thinking.
Be honest with yourself about the cost. Some people thrive despite loneliness. Others find it unsustainable long-term. Neither is wrong. But you need to know which you are.
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My Takeaway
CEO loneliness isn't a problem with a solution - it's a condition that requires management.
The isolation is structural. It's baked into the asymmetry of power and information that defines your role. You will carry certain weights alone. No amount of peer groups or coaching will eliminate that fundamental reality.
But here's what you can control: whether that isolation becomes debilitating or sustainable.
The CEOs who thrive build the right support structures before they desperately need them, who accept that some burdens can't be shared without changing their nature, who find a small group of people who can genuinely challenge their thinking, and who distinguish between the loneliness that's inherent to the role and the isolation that comes from trying to handle everything yourself.
You signed up to carry weight that others can't carry. But you didn't sign up to be completely alone in it.
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marion Heil is the founder and managing director of Board+CEO Advisors. She is based in Vienna.
If you're a CEO dealing with this isolation, reach out. Sometimes the most valuable thing is knowing someone else understands the weight you're carrying - and can help you build the structures that actually work.
