Learning to master the dignified ‘no’

Every woman founder eventually reaches a moment where she must choose between being liked and leading

Women are often praised for empathy, understanding and care and expected to avoid decisions that cause disappointment. We take responsibility not only for results, but also for people’s emotions, self-esteem, and future paths.

A few weeks ago, I had to deliver two hard ‘no’s’. The decision was final and necessary: a student could not continue in one of our top-rated programmes, nor could a colleague continue working with us. These were not impulsive choices or emotional reactions, but leadership decisions made after careful consideration. 

These are the conversations every leader dreads. You postpone them, search for alternatives, and hope something will change so you can avoid the inevitable because saying a hard no feels personal and heavy. And it never gets easier, but you can get better.

Leadership and responsibility

As a CEO, my goal in every difficult conversation is clear and non-negotiable. Even after a hard no, the person must leave with dignity intact, with clarity about the decision, and with a sense of direction for what comes next. A closed door should never translate into a loss of self-worth.

Hard conversations often catch the other party off guard. There is almost always one more option to explore, one more mistake to correct, one more opportunity to improve. But leadership means recognising when that moment has passed. At that point, someone must say the words no one wants to hear—and more often than not, that responsibility falls to me, because no one else volunteers.

My secret rehearsal partner for these meetings is unexpected: my mother, in her seventies, and capable of becoming the angriest ‘mock co-worker’ imaginable. She blames me for everything: how incompetent I am, how my programmes make no sense, how I clearly cannot lead anyone. She even adds dramatic swearing for realism. 

The rehearsal allows me to stay calm in real conversations. I have already heard the worst. Nothing surprises me anymore. And people—no matter how disappointed—do not accept a leader who raises her voice or loses her balance.

Silence creates space

Empathy does not mean emotional absorption. I use silence deliberately as silence creates space for emotions to settle. It allows both sides to remain human. From that grounded place, I honour the person in front of me and acknowledge their contribution with clarity and respect. I tell them what they meant to the team, what they contributed, and how grateful I am for the time we shared. These are truths sometimes forgotten in emotionally heavy moments.

Even in a hard no, I offer choice. Whether the transition happens immediately or at the end of the week, whether the conversation remains private or the solution is named and remembered. The choice allows people to preserve their dignity, their face, and their personal narrative.

One student later wrote publicly that I was the first CEO who didn’t try to ‘fix’ her but instead offered a different perspective. Former team members still return to visit. Some come back to work with us years later. Many remain close friends of the team.

Rejection into creation

Finally, I share my own story. I created my company after being fired twice. I wanted to build an environment where curious, innovative, always-exploring talents could thrive without fear. If I could transform rejection into creation, so can you.

Every woman founder eventually reaches a moment where she must choose between being liked and leading. Firm leadership sharpens empathy. Saying no, when done with clarity and respect, allows people to feel seen, valued, and capable of building what comes next.

Learning to master the dignified no becomes a competitive advantage in my leadership. Disciplined empathy allows me to be clear and turn challenges into sources of trust, authority, and long-term relationships.

P.S. Iryna—as promised, we will name the conflict-resolution model after you.