For a long time, I believed that if I didn’t touch every part of the business, it would fall apart.
Client emails, proposals, landing page tweaks, onboarding flows—I was in all of it. I told myself this made me a better builder. More hands-on. More in control.
But really, it made me tired. Slower. Distracted.
And eventually, it made me the bottleneck.
I used to think delegating meant compromise.
I wasn’t trying to micromanage, and I did trust the people around me. But I still felt like I had to give the final sign-off on every campaign, reply to every lead, and review every task before it left the building.
Because if something went out wrong, it would come back to me. Right?
That mindset is hard to shake. Especially when you’ve built something from scratch. You assume the business runs on your personal attention to detail, when actually, it’s just running on you. Burning you out in the process.
It wasn’t dramatic. Just another packed day.
I was late replying to a couple leads. One of them went with someone else. I spent an hour rewriting a proposal that didn’t need rewriting. Skipped lunch, again. It was 7:30 PM before I looked up.
That night I made a simple list.
Two columns:
Most stuff landed in the second column.
So I picked one: onboarding. I gave it fully to my project manager. Didn’t half-delegate it or ask for constant updates—just let them own it.
Next week, I stopped rewriting campaign drafts.
Then I gave my assistant the authority to triage and route incoming messages.
The result? Nothing broke. Actually, everything got smoother.
Delegation isn’t just about people.
Once leads and demo requests started ramping up, we hit a ceiling. I couldn’t be the one responding to every form submission or email ping. But I didn’t want to install a clunky chatbot either—anything impersonal felt worse than silence.
So I started testing tools that could handle early conversations well—qualify leads, respond with nuance, ask follow-ups.
Eventually I set up NoForm AI to cover that gap. It wasn’t perfect out of the gate, but after tuning, it started to feel like a capable assistant.
It saved me hours every week. Not just in replies, but in mental bandwidth.
Some examples:
That freed up the team to focus on deeper work. And freed me to stop playing whack-a-mole with the inbox.
Letting go didn’t mean losing control. It meant designing better systems.
A few outcomes:
The ironic part? By stepping back from the doing, I finally had space to steer the business forward.
If you’re stuck in the “do it all yourself” loop, here’s what I wish I’d heard earlier:
I waited too long to let go. But once I did, everything moved forward.
Not dramatically. Not overnight. But steadily.
And I could breathe again.