Instead of giving them growth feedback or being honest about my feelings, I’d say things to myself like, “They do such a great job at everything else. I can ignore this one thing,” or, “They might have a lot going on. I should give them the benefit of the doubt.” And even, “If I just wait it out, the issue will probably resolve itself.”
I thought my avoidance was driven by empathy and care, but most often, it was fear in disguise. The truth was that I was afraid of hurting my team.
It took me years to understand that avoiding hard conversations was the most hurtful thing I could do to the people I was trying to protect. I was standing in the way of their growth and allowing my own resentment to build and negatively affect our relationship.
Today, I see having hard conversations as one of the most important and impactful responsibilities of human leadership. Instead of avoiding a difficult conversation, I have it openly, and I approach it with real empathy and care.
Here’s how I’ve learned to do that:
Commit to the 24-hour guideline
I aim to address feedback and concerns within 24 hours of feeling something.
This guideline ensures that my hard conversations are timely. Not only does this keep issues from growing, but it also leads to more trust. People don’t question what I think or feel. They know that when I have feedback to give, I give it, and they’ll never hear about it for the first time in a performance review.
The 24-hour guideline has become our company’s standard. It’s a guideline because sometimes we need more than 24 hours to collect our thoughts and be intentional with our words. Even when we don’t follow it exactly, this commitment keeps us accountable to having hard conversations when we want to avoid them most.
Give yourself permission to be human
Hard conversations are already hard. We don’t need to make them tougher by pressuring ourselves to deliver the message flawlessly or by pretending it’s easy.
Sometimes, I start conversations with, “I feel uncomfortable bringing this up, but I care about you, so I’m doing it anyway.”
Or I might even write down what I want to say and read it to the person. I start by saying, “I want to make sure I’m thoughtful with my words, so I’d like to read you what I wrote, and then talk about it.”
I also share my emotions when I’m giving feedback. We are taught to leave emotions out of our work, but emotions are what make us human. When you clearly communicate how someone’s behavior emotionally affected you, they are more likely to be inspired to change it.
Get curious
One perspective is rarely the whole story. After I give feedback or share a concern, the magic happens when I get curious and invite the other person to share their point of view.
A powerful phrase to use in these moments is, “Tell me more.” I say it when I want to better understand someone’s perspective and what might be underneath it. Being curious often leads me to learn something I didn’t know before. Sometimes I discover that I contributed to the very issue I’m bringing up.
If someone doesn’t feel heard, it’s difficult to move forward and repair. Saying “Tell me more” makes a hard conversation a meaningful dialogue, and it opens the door to deeper understanding.
Let people feel their feelings
When someone we care about is hurting in a hard conversation, it’s natural to want to make them feel better. If they are disappointed, we might downplay our feedback. If they become uncomfortable, we might soften our delivery.
But rescuing someone from pain or discomfort isn’t actually helpful or empathetic.
Having empathy means giving someone the freedom to feel their emotions, even when those emotions are uncomfortable or different from yours. Trying to change the way someone feels can come across as trying to control their reaction instead of caring about their experience.
Holding space for emotions you may not understand or agree with can be tough. But even in moments when we disagree, we can choose to respect and support each other and move forward.
Put your care for the person above your fear
If you wait until you feel comfortable having a hard conversation, you might be waiting forever.
When I’m afraid to address an issue, I remind myself of the costs of avoiding it: The issue may grow along with my resentment. I will break trust when it eventually comes out, and the person will wonder why I waited so long to address it.
Thinking about it that way helps me put my care for the person above my fear of having a hard conversation.
The conversation might not go the way you like, and you might not get the reaction you want. But you’ll know that when you had a chance to avoid the hard thing, you chose courage and compassion instead of allowing fear to keep you stuck.
And that’s what human leadership is all about.