Issue 179, Part Time CEO Newsletter

Hey, it's Dhiren 👋,

A few days ago I recorded a podcast. It started with a mess. About ten minutes in, the host Anwesha stopped and admitted she'd never hit record, and we had to run the whole thing again. It took some nerve to own that in the moment, and I liked her for it.

The restart changed the conversation. Once you've fumbled together, the polish falls away, and we both got more honest than a first take usually allows. That's when she pointed to how I'd introduced myself at the top: husband, father, pet parent, and only then, founder. She asked if I'd put it in that order on purpose.

I had. But I didn't always talk that way. A few years ago, the first few words out of my mouth would have been Founder at Cloudscape. The company was who I was. Take it away and I wouldn't have known what was left. If you'd asked, I'd have called it my baby, and I'd have meant it.

Something we circled in that conversation wouldn't leave me alone, which is why I'm writing to you: your business is not your baby.

The word we hide behind

We call it a baby because the word feels like love. It makes the exhaustion sound noble. But look at what a parent actually signs up for. You raise a child so that one day they walk out the door and don't need you. The whole job is to build someone that can leave you.

Now look at what most of us build. A company where every decision waits for us. Where every client wants us and only us. Where nothing moves unless we push it. I ran Cloudscape like that for years. Fourteen-hour days, every proposal through me, every fire mine to put out.

The tighter I held on, the more the business needed me. And the more it needed me, the more important I felt. Being needed started to feel like being loved. So I built a company that couldn't function without me, and I told myself that was proof I mattered.
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Gradually, then suddenly, the thing I was proudest of had become my cage and from the inside, I couldn't see the bars. Most founders can't.
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​The markers that tell the truth

There's a way to tell whether you love a business or you're trapped by it. It's in what you measure.

Attachment measures how much the business needs you. How many decisions route through you, how many clients ask for you by name, how full your calendar runs. Every one is a sign the business depends on you.

Release measures how well the business runs when you step away. I use three tests, and I run them on myself every quarter.

The two-week test. If you vanished for fourteen days with no phone, would revenue, delivery, and client trust hold? The first time I ran this on Cloudscape, the answer was no. And that told me I didn't own a business. I owned a job with my name on the door.

The waiting test. Walk through the decisions your company made last week and count how many waited for you. Every decision only you can make is a task you haven't handed over yet. And a task you haven't handed over is a rung you're still standing on.

The Friday test. Pick one day a week and take yourself out of it completely. Mine is Friday. No calls, no approvals, no being reachable.

None of this means caring less. I care about Cloudscape more now than when I was inside it every hour. What changed was the direction of the care. I stopped giving the business my time and started giving it what it needed to run without me.

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Your Turn

I won't pretend letting go feels good. The first time someone else handled a client I'd normally handle, they did it their way, and I sat with a knot in my stomach for a week, sure they'd got it wrong (they hadn't). But the fear underneath was never about the work. It was a question I'd been dodging: if I'm not the one holding it together, who am I?

The only way I found to quiet that fear is evidence. Proof the business can hold without me gripping every part. That's what the test is for.

So this week, run the two-week test on paper. Don't take the two weeks if you don't want to but answer one thing: if I vanished for fourteen days, what would break ?

Because if the business would fall apart without you in two weeks, you don't own a business. You own a child that won't grow up, because you won't let it.

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📢 Dhiren’s Updates

The Offer Engine workshop this Friday was a genuinely fun one, and I'm already planning the next. If there's a business problem you'd love to learn how to solve or an area that you'd love to see a workshop on, reply to this email and I'll add it to the topics I build. ​
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📌 Dhiren’s Pick of the Week

The conversation this newsletter issue grew out of. I sat down with Anwesha on Investigating Interesting Minds and we got into the founder-to-CEO shift, learning to say no, and why your business is not your baby. Watch it here:

​https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7HhQkU8tClM​

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ps: did someone forward this to you?​
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