Leadership and Loneliness

Navigating Isolation at the Top

I am an introvert. But it took me years to learn that it’s a feature, and not a bug. I have this distinct memory of sitting under an Ashoka tree in my school and having lunch, all by myself. I was not sitting in the designated area for 2nd graders with the rest of my class.

I didn’t see a problem, but I was encouraged to sit with the others. When I refused, my class teacher said “If you sit with your friends, then I’ll make you the class prefect”. I couldn’t care less, but I think it probably frustrated her a bit more.

Then she did what any respectable school teacher would do - complained to my parents, asking them to “fix” me. And my parents, as any other middle class parents back in the 90s would, panicked that I was “broken”.

Like most children, I was encouraged to blend in, not stand out. As kids, our primary focus was to fit in—at school, in our neighbourhoods, among our peers. That instinct to belong becomes our default coping mechanism, and we’re rarely taught how to thrive when we stand apart.

But life doesn’t stay that simple. As we grow older, the structures around us shift. The once-familiar herd of classmates or coworkers starts to fragment. Leadership roles, whether in business, politics, or life, push us to the top of a new hierarchy. And that place, while powerful, can often feel isolating.

Many leaders quietly navigate this isolation because to admit it feels like failure. As a society, we equate leadership with perfection. We expect competence to look effortless. And leaders, conditioned by those expectations, often maintain an illusion of invulnerability. They lead with a mask of “always having it together,” rarely letting anyone see the cracks beneath.

This idea hit me in an unexpected place: the Singapore Zoo. Watching the big cats—lions, cheetahs, and others—they seemed eerily similar to the giraffes and zebras in neighbouring enclosures. Not in appearance, of course, but in their behavior. All the animals were part of a carefully curated “zoo experience,” reduced to their scheduled feeding times and designated napping spots, subdued and moulded to fit their environment.

But when I thought back to a trip to Tanzania, where I’d seen these same animals in the wild, their essence felt entirely different. Lions and cheetahs thrived in solitude, while giraffes and zebras moved in herds, relying on the group for survival.

I don’t think these big cats were thinking “OMG, I am so lonely, I will join a WhatsApp group with 300 people so I am part of a community”. These animals weren’t adapting themselves to anyone’s expectations; they simply lived as they were meant to, navigating their environment on their own terms.

It struck me how different we humans are. We’re social animals, yes, but our social structures are diverse and deeply personal. We don’t all thrive in the same way. Some of us need large communities for support, while others are more like the big cats, content to exist in solitude or smaller groups. The mistake we often make is assuming our need for connection must look like someone else’s.

For leaders, this tension becomes especially pronounced. Leadership can be lonely, no matter how large our circle is. People may surround us, but their roles often shift in relation to our position. Friends become subordinates. Peers begin to look up to us—or away from us entirely. Even the most humble leader can find themselves on a pedestal, unable to truly connect with others as peers.

In PM Modi’s recent podcast with Nikhil Kamath, he spoke about isolation in leadership. He mentioned that when he invited over his school classmates, he couldn’t connect with them as he did earlier, because they no longer saw him as just “Modi.” To them, he was the PM. His position makes it almost impossible to step back and simply exist as himself.

Contrast this with Angela Merkel, who, after stepping down as German Chancellor, retreated into a quieter life. Living out of the public eye may seem like simplicity, but I imagine even for her, that transition was anything but easy.

The truth is, leadership often comes with inherent loneliness. The stakes are very high —whether it’s managing a pandemic, steering a business, or leading through a societal crisis—we don’t have the luxury of finding a reddit thread on “How to handle this as a leader”. We make the decisions and bear the consequences, all on our own. We must act, learn, and adapt, often without a roadmap.

Still, even in the most isolating roles, leaders don’t have to resign themselves to permanent disconnection. Building support systems doesn’t mean gathering a crowd; it’s about curating a circle of trust. It’s about having people who can hold space for us to pause, reflect, and realign without fear of judgment.

One of my clients, a successful leader, once told me, “I can’t possibly share what I’m telling you with anyone else.” While I felt grateful to hold space for him, I also felt sad that he had felt constrained by his reputation to be honest. Many leaders experience this: the weight of their role keeps them from confiding in others, which only deepens the loneliness.

The pace of modern leadership makes this even harder given the relentless demands and the constant need to innovate. All while maintaining the appearance of authenticity and control. This external pressure often collides with internal struggles, leaving leaders burnt out and disconnected.

The key is finding people who truly understand the journey of leadership—trusted confidantes who see beyond the role to the person behind it. We need allies who can help leaders reclaim their authenticity, sharpen their emotional intelligence, and amplify their impact without losing sight of their humanity.

Leadership requires courage to not only stand out, but it also requires courage to build a community that fits us. Whether it’s one person or ten, a WhatsApp group or a trusted mentor, connection is essential. Not connection that mimics someone else’s structure, but one that reflects our unique needs and rhythms.

Just like the animals in Tanzania, thriving as a leader isn’t about conforming to the herd or rejecting it entirely. It’s about understanding our nature, embracing it, and building the ecosystem that helps us grow. Even at the top, we don’t have to be alone. We just have to be intentional about who we let into our den.