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Leadership Means Knowing When To Leave The Chair
A conversation about integrity, ego, and timing
Hi! Welcome to another issue of Force Multipliers, your weekly briefing from Regina Gerbeaux, where Silicon Valley's behind-the-scenes operators get battle-tested frameworks for their toughest challenges, from putting out chaotic fires to managing strong personalities.
As we close out this year of Force Multipliers, I knew I didn’t want the last issue to be another “do more, be more, optimize harder” playbook for executives.
If you’ve been following along for the last week, you’ll know we just started a series on mental health and well-being for operators. This is much harder and braver than talking about operational excellence and optimizing productivity.
Most of us gloss over telling the truth about our bodies, our calendars, and our roles because it’s uncomfortable.
And instead of calling it uncomfortable, we scoff and just say it’s a waste of time.
But the highest performers I know have a deep understanding that in order to perform at our peak, we have to be willing to talk about the things that make our eyes roll, too.
For the last issue of 2025, I wanted to share a conversation I had with my friend, Zion Kim. Zion recently decided to step down from his company after realizing he wasn’t living in his zone of genius.
Personally, I think Zion’s story is an incredible one, because he stepped away when things were actually fine. Revenue was doing well, team was energized and happy, and the brand was in a great place. But he still felt empty inside and was dragging himself to work every day.
I hope that his story and the playbook we extracted from his actions serves as a great catalyst for your own reflection: are you still meant to be a leader at your company, or is it time to step down?
Here’s the playbook behind Zion’s decision: how to know when it’s time to step down, how to do it without burning the place down, and how to end this chapter of your leadership in a way you’re proud of, so whatever comes next starts from integrity, not exhaustion.
The Operator’s Playbook on Stepping Down with Integrity
Step 1: Tell the Truth About Your Aliveness
Before you touch org charts or titles, answer one question honestly:
Am I still alive in this role?
Signals you’re not:
You dread recurring meetings that used to energize you.
You find excuses to skip leadership calls or ghost parts of the business.
You’re regularly disassociating - overworking, substances, numbing behaviors - just to get through the week.
Your body is quietly screaming through poor sleep, chronic tension, and zero excitement.
Integrity starts with:
“I am not showing up as the most lit-up version of myself, and that’s affecting my team, my family, and this company.”
You cannot step down with integrity if you’re still lying to yourself about how misaligned you are.
Step 2: Separate Mission, Vehicle, and Role
Most founders blur three distinct questions into one:
Mission: Do I still believe in why this company exists?
Vehicle: Am I still aligned with this business model/strategy as the way to express that mission?
Role: Am I the right person to be CEO/operator of this entity right now?
Don’t throw everything out because one layer is misaligned. Ask:
If I redesigned my role around my zone of genius, would that be enough?
If someone else ran this model differently, would I be excited to stay involved?
Here’s simple test Zion used: he asked himself,
“Knowing what I know now, would I acquire this company and step in as CEO today?”
If the honest answer is no, you’re not just misaligned with the role, you’re misaligned with the vehicle. That’s a strong indicator it’s time to plan an exit.
Step 3: Audit Your Motivation: Fear or Desire?
Stepping down with integrity requires you to examine why you’re still there. Common “noble” reasons that are actually fear:
“I need to provide for my family” (when the subtext is: I’m terrified to lose control).
“I just have to see this through” (when it’s really: I don’t want to feel like a quitter).
“I don’t want to get distracted” (when the thing that lights you up is clearly somewhere else).
Use these prompts:
If I had all the money I needed in the bank, would I still choose this role?
Does this decision come from genuine desire or from guilt, duty, or proving energy?
When I imagine doing this for two more years, do I feel alive or numb?
You’re not trying to eliminate pain; meaningful work and a meaningful life always comes with pain.
Instead, you need to choose the kind of pain you’re best designed to hold.
Step 4: Untangle Your Identity From the Company
A big part of what makes stepping down so destabilizing is this:
“If I’m not the CEO of this company… who am I?”
Your identity may be fused with:
Revenue milestones (“I’m the person who built this to $X.”)
Headcount, title, or public perception.
Being the one who “holds it all together.”
Start noticing the inner voices that say:
If you step down, you’ve failed.
You’re abandoning your team.
Without this company, you’re nothing.
Those voices are old programming, not your actual Self. Name them. Get curious:
Whose voice is this actually - a parent, an old boss, a past partner?
If I stopped trying to prove anything to anyone, what would I actually want?
You cannot exit cleanly if you’re still using the company to fill a worthiness gap.
Step 5: Decide: Is This Still a “Full-Body Hell Yes”?
At some point, the reflection needs to turn into a decision. Two binary filters:
Founder-Company Fit Test
Knowing what I know today, would I buy this company and sign up to run it?
If the answer is no, that’s data you cannot ignore.
10-Year Horizon Test
If money were handled, could I see myself doing this for the next 10 years?
No “maybe.” It’s either a hell yes or it’s a no.
If both are a no, staying isn’t loyalty. It’s self-betrayal wrapped in responsibility. And everyone around you feels it.
Step 6: Choose and Enroll the Right Successor
Once you know you’re stepping down, your next responsibility is continuity, not control.
Look for a successor where:
The mission is their dharma. They light up talking about it.
The CEO work (holding the vision, making hard calls, carrying the weight of the org) sits in their zone of genius.
With your successor:
Co-create the next chapter: What is this company becoming?
Let them define the future vision and enroll you into it - that’s how you know they truly own it.
Be honest about the current reality: what’s working, what’s broken, where the bodies are buried.
Your role here is to be a bridge, not a shadow CEO.
Step 7: Build a Real Transition Plan. Don’t just disappear.
Don’t just “announce and vanish.” Treat the transition like a critical initiative with a clear roadmap.
Design:
Responsibility Handoff:
Which decisions and domains move first?
When do your direct reports formally roll under the new CEO?
Rhythm:
Weeks 1–4: You co-lead key calls; they shadow and start leading.
Weeks 4–8: They lead; you attend selectively and debrief offline.
Months 3–6: You shift into a coaching/advisory cadence only.
The goal:
Transfer not just tasks and titles, but the energetic weight of running the company in a way your successor can actually metabolize.
Step 8: Over-Communicate for Psychological Safety
How you share the decision with your team matters as much as the decision itself. Zion calls this emotional safety, but I don’t think you’re protecting anyone’s emotions…instead, you’re making sure they understand that they’re allowed to feel sad or confused, and that it’s very normal.
Anchor your announcement in three parts:
Your Truth
What you’ve been feeling.
How you came to this decision.
Why this is in service of the mission and the team, not an escape.
The Plan
Who’s stepping in and why.
How long you’ll stay involved and in what capacity.
The concrete transition timeline.
Their Safety
What this does not mean (e.g., “We’re not abandoning this mission,” “I’m not disappearing,” “This isn’t a fire drill.”).
How they can access you during the transition window.
Before the group announcement:
Have 1:1 conversations with your leadership layer so no one is blindsided.
You’re not just passing a baton; you’re stewarding the psychological safety of an entire organization. Doing it this way allows you to transition seamlessly with integrity, and the reality is no one on your team will be surprised when it’s time for you to go.
Step 9: Stay for the Handoff, Then Actually Step Back
Stepping down with integrity is not: sending a heartfelt Slack, doing a farewell Zoom, and disappearing.
It is:
Committing to a defined window where your only job is to support the new CEO.
Being available as a coach, not a shadow operator.
Transferring relationships and context instead of hoarding them.
Here’s how you might choose to map out your transition:
First 3 months: complete weekly Founder-to-New CEO coaching check-ins.
Next 3 months: bi-weekly, moving toward strategic-only conversations.
Then - and this is crucial! - respect your own exit.
Don’t linger in the gray zone.
Don’t undermine by “just popping in” operationally.
Let them lead.
Step 10: Close Cleanly and Step Into the Unknown
The way you end this chapter plants the seed for the next one.
👉 Integrity exit checklist:
Have I told myself the full truth about my aliveness and alignment?
Have I communicated that truth to my team in a way that honors their emotional safety?
Have I chosen, prepared, and supported the next leader as fully as I can?
Have I set and kept a clear boundary for my own exit?
Then, give yourself permission to not have the next thing fully defined.
A pause is not a failure; it’s a recalibration.
You don’t have to immediately replace one identity with another.
The first “next step” might be a sabbatical, not a startup.
High intention, low attachment:
Be clear on what you want more of (aliveness, zone of genius, desire-led work).
Be unattached to exactly how it will show up.
One Question to Sit With
Zion’s question is the simplest and most revealing audit you can run:
If I had all the money I needed in the bank, would I still choose this role for the next 10 years?
If the answer is a quiet, stubborn yes - great. You have work to do inside the role.
If the answer is anything less than a full-body hell yes… it might be time to start writing your own stepping-down-with-integrity plan.
Until next time,

P.S. What did you think of this framework? Hit reply and let me know which part resonated most with you. I read every response.
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About Regina Gerbeaux
![]() | Regina Gerbeaux was the first Chief of Staff to an executive coach who worked with Silicon Valley’s most successful entrepreneurs, including Brian Armstrong (Coinbase), Naval Ravikant (AngelList), Sam Altman (OpenAI / Y Combinator), and Alexandr Wang (Scale). |
Shortly after her role as Chief of Staff, then COO, she opened her own coaching practice, Coaching Founder, and has worked with outrageously talented operators on teams like Delphi AI, dYdX, Astronomer, Fanatics Live, and many more companies backed by funds like Sequoia and Andreessen Horowitz.
Her open-sourced write-ups on Operational Excellence and how to run a scaling company can be found here and her templates can be found here.
She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her partner, daughter, and dog, and can be found frequenting 6:00AM Orangetheory classes or hiking trails nearby.

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