How to Become the CEO of Your Next Chapter

At 19 years old, I was running a direct-sales organization.

I was managing sales teams. I was paying rent on a building. I had an administrator I was responsible for training. I was running leadership meetings and standing in front of rooms of one, two, sometimes three hundred people.

In a lot of ways, I was the CEO of a business.

But I was also a child.

And I can look back at that now and understand both of those things can be true.

I knew how to lead people before I really understood myself.

I knew how to set sales goals before I understood how important it was to set goals for my own life.

I knew how to motivate a room full of people before I understood how to protect my own energy.

I knew how to build something.

But I still had so much to learn about becoming the woman capable of leading the life I actually wanted.

And that’s what’s interesting to me now.

Because I’ve reinvented myself many times since that 19-year-old girl stood in front of those rooms.

And every chapter of my life has taught me how to become a better CEO of the next one.

Not just a better businesswoman.

A better CEO of me.

I’ve learned how to make hard decisions. I’ve learned when to take risks. I’ve learned that sometimes loyalty is an incredible quality—and sometimes staying too long can cost you. I’ve learned how to recover when something doesn’t work. I’ve learned that success doesn’t guarantee fulfillment. I’ve learned that your identity can’t be completely attached to a title, a company, a relationship or somebody else’s opinion of your value.

And at 45, as I reinvent myself again, I think I finally understand what being the CEO of your life actually means.

It means taking responsibility for where you’re going next.

Not responsibility for everything that’s happened to you.

There’s a difference.

We can’t control every circumstance. We can’t control other people’s decisions. We can’t control whether a business changes, a relationship changes, an opportunity disappears or a chapter ends before we thought it would.

But we can decide what we’re going to build from it.

And that’s the CEO mindset.

The first thing any CEO needs is a vision.

Where are we going?

Not where have we been. Not what went wrong. Not what somebody else did.

Where are we going?

And I think most of us are far better at doing this professionally than personally.

We create revenue projections. Business plans. Quarterly goals. Marketing strategies.

We know what we want a company to look like six months from now.

But what about you?

What does your life look like six months from now?

And get specific.

Where are you waking up? How does your body feel? What does your morning look like? What kind of work are you doing? How much are you earning? Who has access to you? What does your home feel like? What are you no longer worried about? What are you building? What does a random Tuesday afternoon look like?

Because “I want to be happier” isn’t a vision.

Build the picture.

Then comes something else I’ve done countless times in business:

The audit.

What’s performing? What’s underperforming? Where are we wasting resources? Where are we getting a return?

Except now, apply that to your life.

Your time is a resource. Your energy is a resource. Your health is a resource. Your money is a resource. Your attention is a resource.

Where are you investing those things?

And what are you getting back?

That question has become incredibly important to me at this stage of my life.

Because I don’t want to spend the next decade pouring my most valuable resources into things that don’t belong in my next chapter simply because they existed in my last one.

And sometimes being the CEO means making a decision that isn’t comfortable.

I’ve had to do that throughout my entire career.

But here’s what I’ve learned about difficult decisions:

Avoiding a decision is still making one.

You’re choosing the status quo.

And sometimes that’s absolutely the right choice.

But sometimes we stay because staying feels safer than choosing.

That’s where you have to ask yourself:

If I were already the woman I want to become, what would she do here?

I’m asking myself that question a lot right now.

At 45, I’m building a new career in health and wellness. I’m building businesses. I’m building my own platform. I’m launching a podcast. I’m creating something that looks very different from the career I spent years building before this.

And I don’t know exactly what every piece will look like five years from now.

But I know what direction I’m going.

And every day I’m making decisions for her.

The woman I’m becoming.

How does she spend her morning? How does she take care of her body? What opportunities does she say yes to? What does she say no to? Who does she surround herself with? What does she tolerate? What does she no longer tolerate? How does she spend her money? How does she protect her time?

And that last one matters enormously.

Because one of the biggest things I’ve learned between being 19 and being 45 is that time is the one resource I cannot replenish.

At 19, I didn’t understand that.

At 45, I absolutely do.

Money can come back. Businesses can be rebuilt. Careers can change. You can make more money. You can create another opportunity.

You cannot manufacture another year of your life.

So I’m much more selective now about where my time goes.

Not everyone needs access to me. Not every opportunity deserves a yes. Not every argument deserves my energy. Not every problem belongs to me.

And being busy doesn’t necessarily mean I’m moving forward.

A good CEO knows the difference between activity and progress.

And then there’s something I’ve always loved in business:

Numbers. Metrics. Results.

If you say you want to change your life, give yourself something measurable.

You want to get stronger? How many days are you training?

You want to build a business? How many clients do you want?

You want financial freedom? What does that actually mean in dollars?

You want to build a platform? Who are you trying to reach?

You want a better relationship? What does “better” actually look and feel like?

You don’t need to turn your entire life into a spreadsheet.

But you should know whether you’re moving toward the woman you said you wanted to become.

And finally, there’s one lesson I’ve learned over and over throughout my career:

A good CEO doesn’t abandon the company because of one bad quarter.

Something is going to go wrong. Something won’t launch on time. Someone will disappoint you. You’ll make the wrong decision. You’ll have a week when you aren’t disciplined. You’ll doubt yourself. You’ll wonder whether reinventing yourself was a terrible idea.

That’s not necessarily evidence that the vision is wrong.

Sometimes the strategy just needs to change.

Adjust the strategy. Don’t automatically abandon the vision.

At 19, I thought being a CEO meant being the person at the front of the room.

At 45, I think it means something completely different.

It means having a vision when nobody else can see it yet. It means making decisions other people may not understand. It means knowing when to stay and when to leave. It means taking care of the person responsible for carrying out the vision—which is you. It means accepting that you’re going to get things wrong. And it means having enough confidence in yourself to course-correct when you do.

Every version of me has taught the next version something.

The 19-year-old taught me how to lead.

The chapters after her taught me resilience, business, people, ambition, failure, success, boundaries and reinvention.

And the 45-year-old me gets to take all of those women into what’s next.

That’s the beauty of reinvention.

You don’t start over empty-handed.

You bring every lesson with you.

So don’t think of yourself as an employee waiting for life to tell you what your next assignment is.

You’re the CEO.

Set the vision. Audit your life. Protect your resources. Make the hard decisions. Measure what matters. And when the strategy stops working, change it.

Because every chapter you’ve already lived has been preparing you to lead the next one.

And maybe the most important company you’ll ever build is the life with your name on it.