How to pass the torch before it's pried from your hands

What I learned from stepping back before I was asked to step aside

(I write at length about many of the ideas below in my new book, “Fired Up: How to Turn Your Spark into a Flame and Come Alive at Any Age” out in June. Pre-order now and enroll for free in Firestarter University starting in the Fall.)

A few months after starting Moms Demand Action in 2012, a Silicon Valley volunteer working tirelessly to help me get the organization off the ground made an offhand comment at the end of one of our many daily phone calls. We were discussing a reporter’s request to interview me about our fledgling gun safety group, and the volunteer warned me, “Whatever you do, do not get founder’s syndrome.”

I had no idea what that meant, but said, “Of course not,” hung up, and Googled it. Turns out, “Founder’s syndrome” is how the tech world describes organizational founders whose identities become so enmeshed with their mission that it’s almost impossible to untangle one from the other. And then, when those founders leave (either on their own accord or because they’re forced out), the organizations or businesses they founded fall apart.

The human ego is a funny and fragile thing. No matter who we are, the pull to protect our identity, pride, or power can make it difficult to walk away from the people, places, and ideas we become attached to—especially when we feel we played a role in creating or bettering them. Maybe it’s an idea we put forward at work, or a project we’re leading where we volunteer, or even our own kid going away to college. We helped birth these things, literally and figuratively, into the world, and then we just have to ... let them go?

The simple answer is “yes.” If we’re keeping our egos in check, we know that power is and should be finite, especially if it’s being wielded in the interests of others. We know there’s a difference between stockpiling power and sharing it. And we know that too much power in the hands of one person for too long leads, at best, to stale ideas and, at worst, harmful dysfunction.

Right now, we’re watching this dynamic play out in Congress, where many members have amassed and protected their power for decades. For context, over 70 percent of Congress is made up of mostly white men over who have been in power for over 40 years. From Sen Chuck Schumer to Sen Dick Durbin to Sen Steny Hoyer, too many Democratic leaders are busy protecting their power as our nation’s democracy is dismantled by oligarchs. They’re clinging to the idea that by not engaging or by letting people suffer, voters will eventually see the light and put them back in power. This mindset is exactly why we’re in this predicament; not because these lawmakers are too old, but because their ideas are.

These leaders should have passed their torches long ago to others with fresh energy and ideas, but instead, they’re insisting we pry their power from their cold, dead hands.

To be clear, I’m not saying people over 60 have no place in power or that there’s an age at which someone no longer deserves power. The wisdom and mentorship that comes from being in power for decades is incredibly valuable. In fact, I believe that every member of Congress who has served for more than two decades should pick a young legislator or candidate to mentor and support with the expectation that they will leave office within a decade. Fortunately, this is already happening among some congressional colleagues, including Sen. Bernie Sanders, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, and Sen. Chris Murphy and Rep. Maxwell Frost.

Long-serving lawmakers should see the writing on the wall. According to new polling, 83 percent of Democrats believe it’s very/somewhat important for the party to run younger candidates who represent a new generation, and 69 percent think the party should encourage older leaders to pass the torch. As Amanda Litman, leader of Run for Something, recently wrote, “You can call me an ageist. But while everyone is entitled to age with dignity, no one is entitled to age as one of the most powerful people in the country. To do so, in fact, is undignified. The longer our present members of Congress stay in office, the less room there is in the room for new blood. Holding onto power indefinitely isn’t leadership—it’s obstruction.”

Given that democracy is in dire straits, we need more leaders with fresh ideas in positions of power. Leaders who understand how to communicate using the tools and platforms that ensure people in all generations are listening. Leaders who see old norms and systems as suggestions, but not the future. And leaders who actually reflect the demographics of the people they represent.

Healthy, power isn’t rooted in age or professional expertise, but in personal experience. Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley has said, “The people closest to the pain, should be the closest to the power, driving and informing the policymaking.” Pressley was raised by a single mother and a father in and out of the criminal justice system, encouraging her to become a systems reformer. Lucy McBath a former airline attendant whose son, Jordan, was a victim of gun violence, ran and won a seat in Congress at age 59. And Mallory McMorrow, a marketing executive who decided to run for office after Donald Trump was elected, became a Michigan state senator at age 33. The power these women are accumulating comes from a desire to serve others, not themselves.

When I started Moms Demand Action, I was 41 years old and knew nothing about leading a nonprofit. And as a practicing Buddhist, the last thing I wanted to do was to create an entire organization that would glorify me instead of Moms Demand Action’s mission. My goal was to tame my ego, not fuel it. So, I put a practice in place to maintain perspective: At the beginning of each year, I committed to asking myself whether it was time for me to step back and let another leader step forward. This wasn’t just a simple exercise of asking myself if I should stay or go; I listed and contemplated all the reasons under the sun for both staying and leaving, and discussed them with my husband and confidants.

In the early years, my answer was almost always a firm “no.” There was too much to do, and I still had a clear vision of what I wanted Moms Demand Action to accomplish and the energy to make it happen. But as the years passed, the answer to whether I should leave started leaning closer toward “maybe” or “yes,” and I began to ponder my exit strategy. And then, in 2022, I found myself standing in the Rose Garden at the White House surrounded by dozens of other Moms Demand Action volunteers. We’d worked tirelessly for months to catalyze the nation’s outrage into action after two horrific mass shooting tragedies—one in an elementary school in Uvalde, Texas, and one in a grocery store in Buffalo, New York. We’d held rallies and marches and met with our lawmakers. And now, unbelievably, the legislation that pundits said had a snowball’s chance in hell of passing was becoming law, and we were at the White House with President Biden to celebrate.

As I looked around at the dozens of women who had grown stronger, forged friendships, and fought for radical change in the face of harassment and threats—women who were now bonded as activists and friends for life, I knew with total clarity that that celebration would be the bookend to my leadership and the beginning of a new chapter for Moms Demand Action. It was time to wind down what I’d started a decade ago—a personal mission that had grown beyond my wildest dreams.

I spent the next few months telling a handful of confidants about my decision. Some of those women had already moved on to other ventures, and they gave me valuable advice about navigating the transition with integrity and authenticity. I used their input to plan my exit, including how to tell volunteers and introduce them to the next torchbearer. And then, because I knew it would be difficult to detach from the identity I’d cultivated and inhabited for over a decade, I created a personal plan to handle the inevitable egoic suffering that would no doubt cause me to regret my decision.

During the following year, there were plenty of times I felt angry at myself for deciding to leave, or I felt the sting of being on the sidelines while my team moved on without me, or I worried about who I would be or what I would do when I was done. But I’d like to think that because I’d planned for those uncomfortable moments, I was able to endure them. My husband and close friends held me accountable in the moments I reconsidered, and my therapist reminded me of all the reasons to be excited for the next chapter in my life. Most of all, I knew other women were watching me, and I wanted to be an example of what it looked like not just to lead, but to know when it was time to leave.

What I didn’t realize at the time was that leaving would give me the time and space to start new chapters in my life, from writing my upcoming book to taking a genealogy course to visiting my adult children more often to going on the road with Kamala Harris’s presidential campaign. After 11 years of volunteering every free hour of my life to gun safety, I was looking at life through more than just one lens and new opportunities began to come my way. I also found myself being asked to mentor others—to share what I’d learned and to empower women the way my mentors had helped me. Sharing my power became a virtuous circle; the more power I gave away to others, the more powerful I felt in my own life.

Brené Brown, a researcher renowned for her studies on emotional intelligence, has said, “Daring and transformative leaders share power with, empower people to, and inspire people to develop power within.” In other words, leaders become truly powerful when they shift their mindset from power over to power with. We need to cultivate and elect more daring and transformative leaders who are self-aware enough to understand that power must be shared with others before it begins to wane. As I learned when I left Moms Demand Action, power shrinks when it’s hoarded and grows when it’s shared. And passing the torch isn’t a permanent ending; it can be the beginning of new opportunities for yourself and others that you may never have imagined.

---

My new book Fired Up: How to Turn Your Spark Into a Flame and Come Alive at Any Age, is available for preorder! Out in June 2025, Fired Up will give you the formula for finding your unique spark and show you how to use it to start fires in your life. By preordering, you can enroll for FREE in Firestarter University, a year-long online program that includes live monthly workshops, workbooks and resources, accountability check-ins, and a community to help you succeed.