Why leadership is heavy—and why community lightens the load

At a recent Executive Directors cohort gathering, one ED quietly admitted he felt like he was carrying the weight of five lives—his staff—plus their clients, volunteers, donors, and funders… all on his shoulders.

It wasn’t metaphorical. It was physical. Exhausting. Terrifying.

One bad fundraising year, he said, and layoffs would be inevitable. His eyes filled with tears as he spoke—not because he was weak, but because he cared deeply. About his people. About the mission. About getting it right.

Yes, CEOs in every sector carry heavy responsibility. But nonprofit leadership hits differently. Our staff often accept lower pay because they believe in the mission—and then we ask them to do more with less. Depending on the work, they’re on the front lines every day, witnessing trauma, poverty, injustice, and human vulnerability up close. That takes a toll.

And as the leader, you feel responsible for all of it.

Add to that an environment where donor priorities are shifting, grant funding feels increasingly uncertain, and every budget decision feels like a moral one—and it’s no wonder so many nonprofit leaders are running on caffeine, adrenaline, and very little sleep.

What many EDs told me that night wasn’t just about money, though. It was about loneliness.

No one really prepares you for how isolating the role can be. You can’t “hang out” with staff the same way you used to—because now you’re the boss. Donors and funders may be friendly, but those are professional relationships, not the kind where you can bare your soul and admit you’re scared, tired, or unsure. Somewhere along the way, the circle gets smaller.

So what’s a physically and emotionally exhausted nonprofit leader to do?

Find community.

There’s an old saying: a burden shared is half a burden. Talking things through—out loud, with the right people—can dramatically lighten the emotional load. Of course, choosing the right people matters (sharing your stress with the wrong person can double it), but the truth remains: we are not meant to carry this work alone.

Community is good for your soul—and your sanity. It reminds you that you’re not the only one navigating these challenges. It offers perspective from leaders who’ve already wrestled with the problem you’re facing today. It creates accountability (because sometimes we all need someone to gently ask, “So… did you actually do the thing you said you were going to do?”). And it sparks creativity—borrow what works, adapt it, improve it, repeat.

If you’re feeling isolated, here are a few places to start: reconnect with your local Chamber or your AFP chapter. Explore national alliances tied to your mission. And yes—sometimes the most helpful step is simply picking up the phone.

Which brings me to this: if you’re lying awake at night worrying about fundraising, your board, your team, or whether you’re even leading “the right way,” you don’t have to figure it out alone. I offer free 30-minute discovery calls—a no-pressure conversation to talk through what’s weighing on you and explore practical next steps. I’ll bring the listening ear (and the coffee, metaphorically speaking).

Nonprofit leadership is hard. But it shouldn’t be lonely.

Here’s to finding your people—and to finally getting a better night’s sleep.