I still remember the meeting that started it all. 

I sat down with some of the other Big Change founders, Isabella and Holly Branson and Phil Nevin, in late 2013, meaning to just input into their early explorations. I left with goosebumps. Something here was really different. The boldness of their ambition, coupled with the genuine curiosity and humility they showed to do it in a truly collaborative way. I knew this was where I needed to be.

Twelve years with Big Change has shaped me in ways I'm still discovering.

It has taught me to hold a bold vision and genuine uncertainty at the same time, and resist the pull toward safe answers when the honest truth is that we need to shape something new together. It has taught me to be able to hold questions rather than the comfort of conclusions. That there isn’t a silver bullet (no matter how hard we looked), it is the connections between people, organisations, sectors, generations where the magic lies. That the trust built in those in-between spaces is the real secret to change. 

Today, the change feels more necessary than ever, and more real. The momentum is building. Those early seeds we had to convince donors to believe in alongside us are now shifting national agendas: Josh and Frontline reshaping children's social care, Ed and Beccy with Voice 21 putting oracy at the heart of education. Ruth with Reclaim and Rekindle merging into a movement with and for young people. We've backed over eighty projects, reimagining and reshaping systems with and for young people - from early years to pathways to work, education to care homes, systems leadership to place based change.  Unlocking over £200 million in follow on funding, engaging over 12 million young people as they are adopted.

The impact is real, but still the thing that I'm proudest of is the community. 

The people who have stayed long beyond their funding, not because they had to but because something about this community fills them up. The conversations across generations and divides. A young person talking truth to a philanthropist, and the philanthropist actually hearing it, and the philanthropist sharing their raw truth back. The two changemakers who suddenly realise they've been working on the same thing from different angles, and the spark that happens in that moment. The honesty and laughter. The hugs that remind you that change is, at its heart, a deeply human thing. Our potential really is unlimited when we do it together.

Part of this has been bringing together leaders at the forefront of change globally from education, mental health, business, psychology, youth leadership, and systems transformation. Their wisdom and honest reflection, the things they've shared because they trusted the space have kept me brave. Kept us focused on what's needed, not what's easy. And made some amazing friends along the way. That's where the change actually lives. Not in the strategy. In the connections.

So why step back now? Because we are ready, and I am ready. 

Partly because different moments need different kinds of leadership. I love building things. The blank sheet of paper, imagining what could be, finding the people, holding the vision when the headwinds come and everyone's asking you to be more realistic or fit the mould. That energy got us here. But the question has shifted from ‘how can we show that a new way is possible?’ to ‘how do we leverage our collective power to make the changes systemic?’ This needs someone who can walk alongside our community to unlock their collective experience and insight to shift norms and conditions for change in the broader system. Making space for that isn't a retreat. It's the most generative thing I can do right now.

And partly, and this is the harder thing to say, I've been working full time and holding a lot for twenty-five years. Mum of two young boys. There's something uncomfortable about admitting this, even now. That a woman who runs a mission-driven organisation also has needs. That rest and space and a different rhythm are not self-indulgent; they are, in fact, necessary sometimes. I wrote about this when I took a sabbatical last year. But stepping back from the CEO role altogether is a bigger version of the same question: what does it look like to lead and live, sustainably, in a way that doesn't quietly wear you down under the weight of it? I don't have the answer yet. 

What's next for Big Change?

Next week we'll be sharing more about finding our next CEO. It's been a genuinely collective process where the team, trustees and I have shaped together the vision for the leadership of this next chapter. I am excited about who's coming.

What's next for me?

I'm staying as CEO until the end of the year while we find new leadership for this next chapter. I’ll join the board and look forward to supporting a great transition. Beyond that, I'll keep supporting our ongoing partnerships, connections in the broader ecosystem, including learning alongside a global community of leaders at the forefront of systems change. While also making space for some of the bigger questions that have been sitting at the edges of my work, about philanthropy, who gets to lead, the kind of leadership needed in this moment, what it means to build movements rather than just organisations, and how we create the conditions for our collective human potential to really flourish.

But I'm also giving myself permission to not have it figured out yet. To just be, for a bit. To swim. To be with my kids. To let clarity come in its own time.

If the question ‘how can we catalyse the change that creates a world where all young people thrive?’ resonates with you, now is a brilliant moment to get closer. Read our strategy to 2030 or find out how to get involved.

Thank you to every young person, changemaker, philanthropist, striver, partner, trustee, funder, and team member who has been part of this. You have changed me. Genuinely. Completely.

Big love, Essie