Do you often feel like the weight of the world rests solely on your shoulders? Many leaders fall into what Sabina Nawaz calls the "sole provider trap," believing they must take on everything themselves to ensure tasks are done correctly, quickly, or efficiently. While this mindset might bring short-term satisfaction, it often leads to burnout, resentment, and a lack of growth for those around you. Shifting from being a "sole provider" to a balanced leader starts with embracing delegation, intentional delays, and team development.

Delegation is not about offloading tasks indiscriminately—it’s about strategically empowering others. Instead of micromanaging or assuming “no one else can do it as well,” try identifying areas where team members can contribute meaningfully. By clearly defining roles and providing the necessary resources, you not only lighten your workload but also boost your team’s confidence and capabilities. Start small, such as assigning portions of a project or seeking input on decision-making, and watch as others rise to the occasion.

Another essential shift is learning to pause. It’s tempting to act immediately when something goes wrong or when tasks pile up, but inserting intentional delays can help. Pausing—even for a few seconds—allows you to reflect on whether you truly need to step in or if the moment presents an opportunity for someone else to step up. Over time, these small pauses cultivate a habit of mindful leadership, enabling you to focus on guiding your team rather than managing every detail.

By taking these steps, leaders can break the cycle of over-responsibility and foster a culture of growth, collaboration, and resilience. Find out more in her new book, and read a sample excerpt below! 

‍

As an executive coach to successful bosses across the globe, I have spent more than two decades reverse engineering what makes some- one an effective manager—and what can unwittingly take them out. The key comes down to one’s willingness to unearth the hidden un- knowns that, once excavated, generate success at world-class levels. Clients seek out my services because they want to be not just a boss in charge, but one who guides their team to generate excellent work and inspires everyone toward collective greatness. Isn’t that what we all want as the boss?

While this book is based on the experiences of thousands of man- agers and executives I have coached, I also share insights from my own experience of becoming a boss at Microsoft, because my inquiry into what makes someone powerful as a manager started with me.

You see, I was a lousy manager, but I didn’t start out that way.

A trained engineer, I was hired straight out of university by Microsoft and, within three years, worked my way up to my first managerial job as a test manager. Not long into that role, a few members of my team remarked that they thought I was the “best boss they’d ever had.” What was I doing that made them feel that way? The answer was almost always some version of “Because you care.”

I did care. I poured energy into coaching my team to be at the top of their game and genuinely cared about their well-being as humans. I openly supported their ambitions and encouraged them. In the world of tech, programming is generally considered far sexier than the test- ing we were doing, but several of the testers on my team came back to work with me after trying out programming, saying it was because of my investment in their careers and the collaborative energy of the team we had created. Don’t get me wrong, I was tough with people as well. My boss labeled me “brass knuckles in a velvet glove.”

After nearly nine years at Microsoft, I earned an eight-week sabbatical, during which I had an epiphany that changed the trajectory of my professional life. I realized that although I was close to being the only brown woman to become a corporate vice president at Microsoft at that time, I didn’t want it. This led to a nontraditional move overseeing executive, leadership, and management development and succession planning for Microsoft, setting me on the path to becoming an independent executive coach. I brought my “best boss ever” skills with me to my new department, helping transform an overburdened team into a thriving one. I tuned in to what made each member of my team feel most engaged. Working in collaboration, we rearranged their respon- sibilities so they did work that fulfilled rather than drained them, which in turn yielded kick-ass results. Together we posted a 400 percent hike in productivity without increasing headcount or budget.

Then everything changed.

Shortly before my first son was born, my boss announced she was leaving the company. I said I’d think about stepping into her role when I returned from parental leave, and she replied, “No, no, it’s not an option; you are already slated to take over my job. Tomorrow.” Overnight I went from being responsible for management development to overseeing the professional development of the entire company—all ninety thousand employees.

The morning I was slated to fully return to work from parental leave, my assistant called. “Where are you? There’s a meeting with Steve in half an hour.” I knew nothing about that meeting or what it was about, except that it was with Steve Ballmer, who was CEO of the company at the time. I hurriedly slashed on some lipstick and raced out the door while asking my assistant to scroll through communications to get me up to speed in time for me to walk in. That should give you some idea of the pace and demand that greeted me, set against the backdrop of the utter exhaustion of having a newborn at home.

Without realizing it, I slid from being a caring and supportive boss to one who was snippy and belligerent. Under crushing deadlines, I had no time to explain anything in detail. I didn’t have the patience to nurture people in their career development; I figured, They’re adults, they’ll figure it out. Ditto for worrying about how my actions as a boss were impacting my team and their well-being. This was business, not personal. At least that’s what I told myself.

In my rush for efficiency, I lost connection. When people came to talk to me, I would leave my fingers on the keyboard to silently con- vey they were taking up valuable time. On my drive home one night, I decided to maximize my time and called one of my direct reports to conduct her performance review. She was shocked I was doing this while driving, signaling that she wasn’t important enough for me to sit down with her and have a conversation face-to-face. On another occasion, one of my assistants, Anne Marie, came into my office and said, “I totally understand if you say no, but someone approached me from another department for a project manager job. I know I’ve only been here for three months, but may I interview for it?” My immediate answer: “No.” Not What is the timeline for this opportunity? or How important is it to you? Just an abrupt “No.”

I also lost the plot when it came to distinguishing between managing and micromanaging. Case in point: we ran an exclusive three-day event with Bill Gates and Steve Ballmer, attended by high-potential employees about three positions down from them on the organization chart. Steve was concerned that we might have left the umlaut off the name of an attendee. Rather than trusting that my number two, Janice, who was always fastidious with details, had thoroughly fact-checked the list, I steamrolled over her assurances and demanded that she recheck on the spot the spelling of all fifty attendees’ names. When one (literally one) of the highly coveted swag pens given to each participant didn’t work, I was so irritated that I made Janice and another person on my team come in each morning at dawn before the day’s program started to test all fifty pens for future events. I had no clue that the umlaut and pen stories were roiling through the hall- ways of my department and beyond like a vicious fireball, spitting off more and more sparks with every retelling. I had become the böss from hell.

I had no idea until my colleague Joe came to see me in my office.

Under normal circumstances, I would have been happy to see Joe, because he always challenged me in intriguing ways about management development, but all I could think when he walked in was No time . . . no time!

In his tactful way, Joe sat across from me and said gently, “I think you may not be aware how you’re coming across and how it’s affecting your team.”

Ridiculous, I thought, frankly irritated. I had a long history of being an excellent boss. I’d know if I was making missteps. Yes, okay, maybe I was a little less warm and fuzzy than I’d been in my former position, but I had a far bigger role now, in which I needed to prove myself.

“You’re making people like Anne Marie cry with your comments.”

At that, I quickly took my hands off the keyboard and gave him my full attention. I’d taken Anne Marie’s assurance that she’d understand if I said no at face value and completely missed the opportunity to be not just the boss in charge, but also the one helping manage the skills and needs of my team. Hearing that my people were feeling dismissed, judged, attacked, and afraid of screwing up because of me was a bucket of ice water in my face.

That was a turning point for me.

Besides cleaning up my act as a manager, I used my engineer training to dissect and reconstruct what it means to be genuinely successful in a role of authority. How had I veered so far off course? What makes one manager become a superstar and another crash and burn? How do well-meaning bosses end up making their teams miserable? Worse, how does all that happen without them knowing it? I started hunting around to understand how power shields us from seeing our missteps while the increased pressure of high-level roles affects our ability to self-regulate our behavior.

I arrived at the conclusion that there are rarely “bad” bosses, only good people with the best of intentions who unwittingly cross the fine line between good intentions and bad behaviors. And they are every- where (including in the mirror). I came to understand a simple truth that eventually became the basis of my life’s calling as an executive coach: as our job description expands, we must mindfully navigate the combined forces of greater pressure and power—or else pressure will corrupt our actions and power will blind us to the impact of those actions.

EXCERPT published with permission.