A Non-Woo Look At The Enneagram For Skeptical Leaders

Being skeptical about the Enneagram is perfectly valid. It has a reputation for being “woo,” and unlike the Big Five, it isn’t scientifically validated.
Skepticism comes from a healthy part of us, the part that doesn’t swallow information without checking sources or making sense of things.

And it’s also true that the Enneagram has been misused at times (usually through stereotyping or forcefully typing others), so it’s understandable to keep some distance when that has happened.

The Enneagram has two aspects: a psychological one and a spiritual one. They’re interconnected, and both offer something powerful depending on your background and interests.
And it’s completely fine to focus on the psychological side only - the strengths and challenges, the patterns and habits, and the communication tendencies - and let go of the spiritual side if it’s not your thing.

That’s the lane I work in with most of my STEM clients (with some exceptions), and it’s where leaders get the most practical value in the workplace.

From that perspective, the Enneagram becomes an awareness-building and pattern-recognition tool, a way to understand the automatic habits that influence how we handle stress, make decisions, and interact with others. It also helps us catch the moment when we lose presence or shift into autopilot mode.

That’s why many STEM professionals end up appreciating it after their initial resistance. In my trainings and coaching, I hear it all the time: “Wow, this is actually incredible. This should be taught in high school and college.”

The Enneagram gives language to patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving that  they’ve noticed for years but couldn’t fully explain or more importantly, interrupt.

Here are a couple of quick communication examples -  and yes, I’m simplifying types more than I usually like:

• Type 1: Organized, precise, and principled, but may over-correct others, edit internally while listening, or tighten their tone when something feels “off” or imperfect.

• Type 7: Energetic, optimistic, and creative, but may unintentionally talk over people, jump topics quickly, or avoid hard conversations that feel uncomfortable.

Neither is good or bad. They’re simply patterns.
And once you can see a pattern, we can learn to interrupt the autopilot and choose a different way to show up.

That’s the real value of the Enneagram in communication:
Self-awareness leads to more choice, which leads to better interactions and therefore stronger teams.

Think of one interaction with another person that happened this week.
What pattern of yours showed up? And what was it pursuing or protecting?

The 3 Communication Blind Spots I See Most In STEM Leaders

(And not just in STEM!)

Most STEM leaders I’ve worked with are smart, capable, and deeply committed to doing excellent work.
Unfortunately communication is often where things go downhill, not because they lack skill, but because no one ever taught them what really matters.

Here are the three blind spots I see most often:

1. Overvaluing precision over perception:
Leaders often focus on getting the words right while overlooking how their message is landing. Precision matters, but it can’t override attunement.

2. Treating communication as information, not meaning-making:
Leaders tend to assume that communication is complete once the words have been spoken and heads have nodded. Information delivered doesn't equal information understood because shared understanding requires slowing down for alignment, checking assumptions, and confirming understanding and agreements.

3. Overestimating their own regulation under stress:
Leaders might believe that they’re being either calm or “just direct” but their facial expression, tone, or pace tells a different story. Under pressure, the nervous system takes over: defending, over-explaining, shutting down, speeding up, etc.

What’s the cost of these blind spots?

When leaders can’t see these patterns, the consequences negatively affect teams and organizations:
* Leaders who feel misunderstood and exhausted
* Emotional reactivity that derail conversations
* Decisions that feel rushed because people don’t feel heard
* Missed promotions and stalled careers
* Teams that feel misaligned or confused

None of these is a character problem.
It’s an awareness problem,  and awareness is absolutely trainable.

What to do about it

If you’re a STEM leader (or managing them), here’s where to start:
* Slow your internal tempo by 5-10%.
* Pay attention to tone, expression, and pace - they carry more meaning than the words.
* Check assumptions explicitly.
* Shift from transmitting information to creating shared meaning.
* Notice when your nervous system takes over presence.

These small adjustments will transform your communication and enhance your impact as a leader.

Which of these blind spots do you recognize in yourself or your team?

Why I Coach The Way I Do (And What It’s Like To Work Together)

One of the questions people usually ask at our intro call is what my coaching process looks like.
Is it structured? Free-flowing? Do we follow a framework? Do we just “see where things go”?

My answer: it’s both highly organized and completely client-led.

The reason I coach this way is personal.
I started my professional life as a scientist - asking precise questions, organizing logical processes, and tracking cause and effect.
I also volunteered for a decade as a peer counselor - attuning, listening, and creating conditions where people can see themselves with more clarity and self-compassion.

Both sides deeply reflect my personality. And this is also how I prefer to be coached myself: not pushed through a formula, not floating without direction.
Held by structure, guided by my own unfolding.

That’s the approach I bring to my clients.

How does it look in practice?

We meet for an intro call. You’re self-aware and know that something in your leadership or communication isn’t quite working. We explore what’s happening, what you’ve tried, and what coaching could make possible. We clarify what success will feel like. You decide to begin.

Session 1 is a deep intake. I learn how you think, make decisions, build relationships, react under pressure, and interpret the world. I’m listening for your strengths, values, patterns, and what parts of yourself you might not have fully revealed. You're leading the conversation, I’m mapping the territory with you.

After that, I create a draft coaching program - clear purpose, meaningful outcomes, and a developmental arc that fits who you are and where you want to go.
We refine it together. You name what resonates. We adjust the language. Then the deep work begins.

Each session builds on the last.
We stay anchored to the purpose and outcomes you’ve chosen.
We add self-reflections and small, repeatable exercises that build capability over time.
We explore real-life moments and prioritize what matters most.

Throughout the process, you are leading.
Your insights give direction.
Your lived experience guides pacing.
My role is to bring structure, clarity, precision, and attunement so your development stays grounded and on track for real outcomes.

It’s that balance that makes the work powerful.

There is a science to coaching well: nervous system awareness, pattern recognition, developmental sequencing, practices that build capacity.
And an art: presence, pacing, intuition and attuning to the human being in the moment.

I coach where those two meet - science and art.

Clients feel supported without feeling directed.
Challenged without feeling overwhelmed.
They make real changes - by connecting to something new inside themselves.

If you’re curious about coaching that is both structured and deeply human, this is the work I offer you. Contact me to schedule an introduction call.

When You Avoid Difficult Conversations, You Pay The Price Later

“Difficult conversation” covers a wide spectrum of moments where something important needs attention, and sometimes repair:

• A disagreement that lingers,

• A reactive moment we pretend didn’t happen,

• Being on the receiving end of a blow-up,

• A slow-building tension that resurfaces,

• Or a conflict so big it feels like a betrayal.

Different scenarios, same truth: Something in the relationship has been damaged - slightly or significantly - and repair is required.

Avoidance is comfortable, often for understandable reasons. We tell ourselves:

• “It’s just work.”

• “They’ll get over it.”

• “That person doesn’t matter.”

• “It’s not worth it.”

• “I’ll just let it go.”

These thoughts create the illusion that avoidance is easier.

I get it. Like most people, I don’t like conflict.

But in my late twenties, I had a big aha moment: I realized I’d created unnecessary problems with several people through poor communication. I didn’t know better, so I didn’t take accountability. I can extend grace to my younger self for that.

Years later, when I understood the impact, I repaired what was possible.

• I apologized to the coworker I’d alienated with my venting.

• I apologized to the family member I’d shut out.

• I contacted a couple of others I could have met with more calm.

Those conversations were uncomfortable and vulnerable. But they taught me that avoidance multiplies harm, and accountability restores alignment. Some people forgave me - others probably still don’t like me, and that’s ok. What matters is that accountability happened.

Now, incidents like that are far less frequent and intense. When they do happen, I address them quickly. That practice has made my communication cleaner, my relationships healthier, and my leadership stronger.

Addressing a difficult moment takes courage and presence. It’s not easy to confront your own reactivity or engage someone who might be defensive or hurt. It’s not easy to be wrong, and say it. But that’s exactly what credible leadership requires.

Avoidance, on the other hand, creates a debt, and the interest compounds.

You pay the price later when:

• A small conflict escalates,

• You think, “I should have said something,”

• Embarrassment sets in,

• Your credibility erodes,

• Or team dynamics are affected by the issue.

Avoidance doesn’t erase the problem, it amplifies it. What could have been a brief conversation becomes a charged one. What could have been a small repair becomes a wide rift.

You don’t need the perfect script. Just one grounded opening: “Something happened between us that I’d like to revisit.”

The sooner you start, the lower the price you pay, and the more you strengthen your credibility, relationships, and integrity.

If there’s a difficult conversation sitting on your desk (or in your heart), ask yourself:

What will it cost me if I keep waiting?

And what might become possible if I address it today?

You Thought You Were A Great Communicator Until…

• Your intent to maintain high standards and push everyone to do their best was perceived as rigid and critical - people heard judgment instead of encouragement.

• Your genuine desire to support and make yourself useful came across as intrusive or manipulative - others felt incompetent instead of empowered.

• Your focus on speed and achievement created an atmosphere of urgency - others experienced pressure and fatigue, as if productivity mattered more than their well-being.

• Your effort to express authenticity and emotional depth felt self-absorbed - others experienced it as overwhelming instead of connecting.

• Your calm, logical explanations created distance - people felt you valued your ideas and knowledge more than their humanity.

• Your careful questioning to ensure safety and preparedness was misread as skepticism - others sensed you were doubting them instead of guiding them.

• Your many ideas and optimistic reframing created excitement but also confusion - others felt you were jumping ahead and skipping over what mattered to them.

• Your directness and bold approach landed as intimidating - others felt challenged instead of invited into honest dialogue.

• Your efforts to keep harmony and avoid tension silenced important truths - people mistook your chill style for disengagement or lack of conviction.

Recognize yourself in some of these statements? Each of these fit an Enneagram Type, but we can certainly use several of these habits. The Enneagram helped me see the specific way that I unintentionally disrupted communication even though I had very good intentions.

Communication isn’t just about clarity, it’s about respect and connection, even in the workplace.

Real progress in communication begins when we can notice our patterns and their impact on others, pause, and choose presence and connection over reactivity and habit.

Would you like to discover your Enneagram Type? Contact me and let's explore this together!

Communication As Value Creation

Every conversation in the workplace is either an act of value creation or an act of value destruction, also known as waste.

As Mickey Connolly and Richard Rianoshek write in “The Communication Catalyst”, communication is the operating system for how value moves through an organization. This isn’t a soft skill!

When we invest in our communication - listening with presence and curiosity, speaking with attunement and clarity - we create trust, alignment, and value.
But when assumptions, fear, or overwhelm drive our behavior, we inadvertently create misunderstandings, defensiveness, and disengagement; all of which are wasteful.

Much of that will lead to either value or waste begins with perception.
Our brain is a prediction machine. The moment we sense a threat - a raised eyebrow, a sharp tone, a critical question - our nervous system shifts into fight, flight, or freeze.

We stop listening for understanding and start listening for protection.
In that state, we hear through filters:
* We defend instead of inquire.
* We confirm what we already believe.
* We miss what the other person actually needs or values.

This is where communication breaks down - not because people lack skill, but because they’ve lost presence.

When we bring awareness back online - pausing, grounding, and listening beyond words - and remove our perception filters, communication becomes a method of value creation again.

We can align on purpose, address real concerns, and design actions that matter and work for everyone’s shared goals.

So the useful question to ask for any leader isn’t “Did I get my message across?”
It’s “Did this conversation add value?”

As I reflect on this, I see how difficult that shift continues to be for me - not because it’s a complex concept to understand, but because of how easily my personality and habits take over.

That’s why daily centering practices matter so much: they deepen our self-awareness and our ability to pause and choose responses instead of reacting automatically.

Imagine if every team meeting or 1-1 check-in started with that shared intention - to create value, not waste.

Warmth That Works For Everyone

Many organizations aspire to build a warm culture, one where people feel comfortable, seen, and valued.

But warmth can take many forms. For some, it shows up as lively conversations, celebrating birthdays, team activities, or shared outings. These expressions of connection feel natural and energizing to them.

For others, warmth is best received in quiet forms: the unspoken care behind generous PTO, comfortable workspaces, flexibility to work from home when it makes sense, or a manager who respects focus time.

All of this contributes to warmth. It’s not about how visible the care is, it’s about whether people can feel it.

Personally, I like a bit of both. It’s nice to know one’s colleagues and have moments to connect during breaks. It’s also nice to have quiet time to focus and get work done. When I was a lab manager, I took care of birthday cakes and farewell parties and enjoyed celebrating milestones with my lab mates. And I also appreciated that those moments were limited in time and scope, so that lab activities didn’t feel socially demanding.

A truly warm culture doesn’t prescribe how to connect, or force friendliness or belonging. It honors the full range of human expression and recognizes that genuine care can look lively or serene, structured or spontaneous.

When warmth is attuned rather than uniform, teams thrive because people feel comfortable being themselves at work, regardless of their personality style.

How is warmth expressed in your workplace?

Leading From Talking vs Leading From Listening

Yesterday I went on a hike with my husband and asked what I should write about today.
“What would be interesting to you about leadership and communication?” I said.
He thought for a moment and replied: “Leading from talking versus leading from listening.”
Ok then. Here is what came up from his idea.

Most leaders have trained themselves to lead through talking - to explain, clarify, persuade, inspire. Talking projects confidence, direction, and expertise.

But there’s another kind of leadership that often goes unseen - leading from listening.

When we lead from talking, our attention is on what we want to express.
When we lead from listening, our attention is on what wants to emerge.

Talking leads from knowing.
Listening leads from learning.

Talking can create alignment around our ideas.
Listening creates alignment around shared understanding.

I didn’t always know how to listen. For years, I was focused on expressing, explaining and well, trying to convince. It wasn’t until I trained in peer counseling in 2008 - and served hundreds of clients through active listening in the decade that followed - that I truly learned what it means to listen with presence. That experience changed everything - so much that it set me on the path to becoming a coach.

In high-stakes environments, where precision matters, many leaders equate explaining with results - yet the best outcomes often arise from the willingness to pause, to attune, to hear what’s emerging from the collective.

Leading from listening doesn’t mean being passive or quiet. It means being attuned enough to know when speaking serves the moment - and when it’s silence that does.

The leaders who master this shift don’t lose authority, they gain influence. Because people feel heard, not managed.

What might change in your leadership if listening became a bigger part of leading?

Why STEM Leaders Need “Human Bandwidth”

“Human bandwidth” is a team’s shared capacity to think with awareness, listen fully, and stay connected under pressure. It’s the mental and emotional signal strength that determines whether your message translates into understanding, alignment, and action.

In fields where communication is the product - like education, design, or marketing - this kind of bandwidth is most likely intentionally cultivated.
But in STEM environments, it’s often overlooked.

As they move up the hierarchy, technical leaders train themselves to optimize systems and deliver results - not to tune the human circuits that make collaboration work.
Yet without enough training in emotional intelligence and communication, even the most brilliant teams hit their limits.

When human bandwidth is high, respect is maintained even under pressure. Ideas move freely and decisions flow because tension is named early and addressed with competence. People feel safe to admit when something isn’t working and trust that it’s possible to return to harmony.

When it’s low, signals get distorted. Stress amplifies reactivity instead of reflection. Projects stall because no one wants to speak up. Even smart, well-intentioned teams start to sound static-filled.

Expanding human bandwidth doesn’t start with new tools or processes.
It starts with awareness and communication skills that restore flow: slowing down to check for shared understanding, inviting feedback, identifying friction early, and regulating one’s own nervous system before reacting.

When leaders build these habits and share them with their team members, the collective signal clears.
People harmonize again. The system regains coherence. The mission continues.

In the end, leadership isn’t just about managing output - it’s about expanding the space where humans can think, relate, and create together.

What’s the current state of your team’s human bandwidth - clear and open, or a little static-filled?

The Power Of The Pause

For many of us, really pausing feels almost impossible because it runs against deeply ingrained strategies for how we move through the world. The Enneagram helps us see why taking a vacation - or even just a solid break - can feel so counterintuitive. For example:

* The Assertive Types (3, 7, 8) push forward. Motion equals power, identity, and security. Stopping can feel like stagnation or even giving up.

* The Compliant Types (1, 2, 6) orient around obligation, service, and loyalty. Taking a break can feel like letting someone down or avoiding responsibility.

* The Competency Types (1, 3, 5) lean on doing things “right,” efficiency and mastery. Pausing interrupts momentum and can feel like laziness or ineptitude.

Each of these strategies resists the pause because stopping threatens something essential: control, approval, or security.

And yet the pause is essential. Without it, there is no digestion of experience, no emotional self-regulation, no integration. We keep running, but we lose the connection to ourselves.

Every type has its own resistance: for some as described above, it’s pausing the addiction to action that is challenging. For others, it’s pausing the obsessive thinking or the repetitive pulling into intense feelings that is most difficult. Which is exactly why pausing is such powerful medicine for everyone.

A pause - whether a deep breath before moving to the next task, a weekend of rest, or a real vacation - is not wasted time. It fertilizes the ground where clarity, creativity, and connection can grow.

I’ll be practicing the pause myself as I take a vacation. What about you? What gets in the way of pausing, and what might become possible if you gave yourself permission to take a break for a little while?

From “It’s Not Possible” To Expanding Possibility.

“It’s not possible.”
“That’s just how it is.”
“There’s nothing we can do.”

These affirmations stifle creativity. They shut the door before options can even be explored.

I’ll admit, this has been a learning edge for me. My default was often to see limitations, even to limit myself,  by believing “that’s just how it is.” But again and again, I’ve been surprised by creative colleagues who found out-of-the-box solutions I couldn’t see at first.

I still remember co-creating a 4-page questionnaire and then being asked to fit it on one page. My immediate response? “It’s not possible.”

A week later, every question was there - reformatted, tightened, double-sided - on a single sheet of paper. All thanks to the creative genius of two teammates. So much for “not possible.”

Sometimes things really are stuck. But what if, instead of closing the door too soon, we stayed open a little bit longer - not only to what might be possible, but to allow colleagues who think differently to offer their unique contributions?

Now imagine instead:

• “Let’s explore what’s possible.”

• “Let’s imagine another way to look at it.”

• “Let’s see what options we might find.”

This simple shift opens the door.
It invites creativity instead of shutting it down.
It signals openness instead of finality.
And it says: we don’t have to have the answer yet,  but we’re willing to look together.

The words we choose matter. They can cut off possibilities, or they can create space for new solutions to emerge. And often, the best answers come from that space.

So, what’s your go-to? Limiting and focusing, or opening and broadening? What are the pros and cons of your way of thinking?

From “My People” To “Our Team”

It’s something you might hear in a meeting:
* “My people will take care of that.”
* “I’ll check with my people.”

Even when it’s not intended, “my people” reflects a sense of ownership, reducing colleagues to resources that belong to the speaker.

Now imagine instead:
* “Our team will take care of that.”
* “I’ll check with our team.”

The difference is subtle, but powerful.
“Our team” emphasizes partnership and belonging.
It signals respect for the people who contribute.
And it shows the leader’s own acceptance of responsibility, because “our” means I’m part of this too.

On Labor Day, we’re reminded that work is never just about tasks, output and stock value. It’s about people - their dignity, their effort, and the relationships that make meaningful work possible.

And as corporate America faces enormous transitions, with AI reshaping jobs and organizations, employees need to feel valued as human beings more than ever. Language is one of the simplest, most powerful ways leaders can provide that sense of value - if they mean it.

The words we choose can reinforce hierarchy, or they can build respect, connection, and shared ownership.

Today - and every day - leaders can choose words that honor the people who make the work, and the success, possible.

From “You Always / You Never” To What’s True Now

Few things spark or fuel an argument faster than “You always…” or “You never…”

Even if the pattern feels real, those absolutes usually trigger reactivity instead of resolution.

The foundational skill is catching ourselves before our own reactivity takes over. Taking a breath, slowing down, and choosing words that reflect the moment rather than the story in our heads.

Here’s the shift that can make all the difference:

Instead of the blanket statement, pause and name what’s actually true right now.

* “I felt let down when this happened yesterday.”
* “This is the third time this week you’ve…”
* “I notice I’m getting frustrated right now, and I want to talk about it.”

Specific, grounded language keeps the conversation in the present.
It opens the door to clarity instead of closing it with blame.

What’s your go-to way of bringing a conversation back to what’s true in the moment?

From “That’s Not What I Meant” To Owning Clarity

We’ve all been there.
Someone misunderstands us, and the words fly out: “That’s not what I meant!”

It feels defensive, like the blame belongs to the listener for not sifting through our words to find the meaning underneath.

But what if, instead of defending, we owned our responsibility for clarity?

Owning our message means slowing down, noticing where clarity slipped, and saying: “Let me try again.”

What follows is ideally more direct, more concise, uses “I” statements, and if feedback is involved, clearly describes the impact and a kind request for change.

That small shift - from defensiveness to ownership - transforms communication.
It prevents spirals of miscommunication, helps others actually hear you, and actually builds trust.

What’s your go-to strategy when clarity breaks down?

From “Why?” To A Better Way In

Back in the day, whenever someone asked me “Why did you do that?”, I’d shift into justification mode.
Unconsciously, it felt like I was being put on the stand.
Even if I trusted the person.
Even if their tone was calm.
Even if I had a good reason for my choice.

Over time, I noticed this wasn’t just me.
It was happening all around me, especially in the STEM spaces where I was working.
Bright, capable people getting defensive or shutting down.
All triggered by one small, seemingly harmless word: “Why?”

When I became a volunteer peer counselor, I learned how to listen actively to my clients.
And I realized something important:
“Why?” often triggers defensiveness because it sounds critical.
We assume we’re being questioned because someone disagrees.

So I tried a different approach, one that made my intent to understand more clear:
“What led you to that choice?”

It changed everything.
* It kept curiosity intact.
* It invited clarification instead of justification.
* It made room for context, not defense.

In high-accountability environments, this kind of shift matters.
It’s not just words - words shape trust and outcomes.
The right wording builds safety.
It gets you more accurate answers.
And it fosters real dialogue and stronger relationships.

Try it this week.
Before asking “Why?”, pause.
Ask yourself what you’re really trying to learn.
Then try: “What led you to that choice?”

You’ll likely get more openness, and less tension.

What’s your go-to way of asking hard questions?

Courage In Leadership Isn’t What We Assume It Is

We often associate courage with decisiveness, boldness, or charging ahead in the face of fear.

But in the context of self-awareness and growth, especially as leaders, courage is something less assertive, but also more demanding.

Courage is not the absence of fear.
It’s the presencing of fear.
It’s the willingness to stay with discomfort long enough to sense a deeper truth underneath it.
And from that presence, to choose our next step, sometimes to pause or even retreat, and sometimes to act despite the feeling of fear.

The path of self-awareness and real growth is made of many moments that require this kind of courage.

Because It isn’t easy to face the parts of ourselves that avoid, protect or fail.
It takes courage to sit with those truths without giving in to numbing, denying or rationalizing.

And yet this is exactly where resilience is born.
Not from a version of courage that urges us to push ourselves harder or “do better.”
But from a deeper version of courage that is anchored in presence.
From a quieter trust that what’s hard to face is also part of our wholeness.

This kind of courage isn’t loud, but it is real and you can rely on it.

The Invisible Labor No One Talks About At Work

Years ago, I was clueless about how much labor others were doing around me, not just to communicate efficiently, but to cope with my poor communication skills.
I made assumptions. I overshared personal problems at work. I didn’t leave space. I missed subtle - and not-so-subtle - cues.

And some people, especially the more emotionally intelligent or accommodating ones, picked up the slack.
They softened their tone. Adjusted their pace. Worked hard to keep things smooth with me.

That’s invisible labor in communication:
The behind-the-scenes effort some people carry to manage relational tension, attune to others, or protect the connection.
We talk more about it in personal relationships, but it exists at work, too.

It often goes unseen, unthanked, and unshared.

You’ll see it in the colleague who bridges misunderstandings so the team doesn’t fracture.
The employee who lightens the mood when a leader gets sharp.
The team member who cushions another’s words when they interrupt or steamroll, because they care more about preserving the relationship than correcting them.

Over time, this labor adds up.
It can lead to resentment, burnout, or quiet withdrawal.

And it’s not just “emotional people” who carry it.
Often, it’s the most relationally intelligent ones - the people who notice everything - who quietly hold things together.

If you’ve benefited from this labor (like I have), one of the most respectful things you can do is notice it. Maybe even thank the person.

Then:
Slow down.
Make space.
Check in.
Take more responsibility for the relationships, not just the outcomes.

Because communication isn’t a solo performance.
It’s a co-created experience, even at work.

What invisible labor is happening around you, and how can you help carry the load?

Why Being Bicultural Made Me A Better Communicator

Today is Belgium’s National Day.
As a Belgian-born, naturalized American, it has me reflecting on what it means to live - and lead - between two cultures.

I’ve rarely spoken about being an immigrant, perhaps because I’ve been so aware of the privilege I’ve had on my path to U.S. citizenship.

In my early days in the U.S., working in scientific research, it felt easy to blend in. My background was just one of many in a global academic setting. Before immigrating to the U.S., I lived in Germany for two years, also in a multicultural, international environment. In a way, being a foreigner in those spaces was normal, even desired.

But when I transitioned into coaching and training, my accent suddenly stood out more. So did the fact that I didn’t grow up in the U.S.

At first, I was shy about it. I worried it might make me seem less credible, or somehow “other,” not as good as an American-born coach.

But over time, I noticed something surprising:
Some clients were choosing to work with me because of it.
Others saw it as an added bonus.

Because I brought a different lens.
Because I listened a little differently.
Asked different questions.
Didn’t take cultural norms for granted.

What I had once seen as a weakness became a quiet strength.

Being bilingual and bicultural rewires your brain in subtle ways. It’s kind of an intensive training in the Social Instinct. You become more attuned to context. You pay more attention to nuance. You learn to code-switch when appropriate, linguistically, emotionally, relationally.

You don’t have to be bicultural to develop these skills. In fact, they’re essential for any leader navigating a diverse team, a global organization, or even just different communication styles.

With practice, anyone can expand their range:

* Slow down enough to notice what others might be assuming.
* Get curious about how things land—not just what was said.
* Use language not just to convey facts, but to connect.

That’s not just communication. That’s leadership.

These are exactly the muscles I now help leaders and STEM professionals build in their communication.

It turns out that living between two worlds helped me see what often goes unnoticed in one.

Question for you:
Have you ever realized that something you once thought of as a weakness is actually part of your unique value?
I’d love to know.

Three Questions To Transform Your Check-Ins With Team Members

I recently heard about a great leader who guided a feedback conversation with a team member using just three questions:

• How are you feeling about your autonomy?

• How are you feeling about your mastery?

• How are you feeling about your purpose?

That’s it.
Well, that, and a lot of listening. The conversation lasted over an hour.

No formal assessment. No corporate inauthenticity.
Just a genuine check-in on what matters most to people at work.

These three words - autonomy, mastery, and purpose - come from Daniel Pink’s book Drive: The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us.
In it, he identifies them as the core drivers of intrinsic motivation; what fuels people to do their best work from the inside out.

When a leader asks about these three words, three powerful things happen:

1. It guides the conversation. No need to guess where to begin. These questions go straight to the heart of what’s working — and what’s not.

2. It inspires the employee. It signals that their inner experience matters, not just their output. That they’re seen as a whole person.

3. It gives the leader insight. If the leader wants to grow, this feedback is gold. It shows where their leadership can evolve to better support their people, and to keep top talent engaged and committed.

It’s simple.
It’s profound.
And it only works if it’s sincere; if the questions come with real curiosity, care, and the willingness to act on what’s shared.

Questions for you:

• Have you ever had a leader ask you these kinds of questions?

• What would your answers be today, about your own autonomy, mastery, and purpose at work?

You Will Mess Up. What Matters Is What You Do Next.

Mistakes in communication are inevitable.
We cut someone off. We give unsolicited advice. We miss a cue. We speak too quickly, or too much, or not at all.

What defines us isn’t whether we mess up (we will).
It’s how we repair.

Repair means circling back after a misstep to acknowledge impact, re-establish trust, and reconnect.
It’s not about rehashing everything or taking all the blame.
It’s about owning your part and showing that the relationship matters more than being right.

Depending on the context, repair can sound like:

• “How did you experience this conversation? I’d like to hear about how you felt.”

• “I realized I spoke over you in that meeting; thanks for being gracious about it. Please jump back in if you’d like to add anything.”

• “I’ve been thinking about our conversation. I want to clarify something I said that might’ve landed wrong.”

• “I lost my temper, and I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Repair can be as simple as a one-line acknowledgment or as deep as a heartfelt apology.
What matters isn’t perfection, it’s the willingness to return, take responsibility, and prioritize connection over pride.

Even highly skilled leaders miss the mark sometimes. But the ones we trust most are the ones who pause and take the time to check in.
The ones who don’t avoid awkwardness.
Who understand that courage in communication means facing, not fleeing, relational frictions.

And yet, it’s tempting to skip that step:

• To downplay the moment because the relationship “isn’t that close.”

• To move on quickly to “more important matters”.

• And of course, to shift blame : )

But skipping repair is what quietly erodes credibility and trust.
Repair isn't a luxury. It's a necessity - for leadership, for teamwork, and for any meaningful relationship.

Today is my husband’s and my 12th wedding anniversary. We’ve messed up plenty, by being reactive, misattuned, or not communicating as well as we wanted. But every single misstep has been repaired, which in turn has deepened our bond and love for one another.

A solid relationship isn’t built on getting it right. It’s built on what we choose to do next.

Questions for you:

* Have you ever trusted a leader more because they owned a misstep?
* How do you want to be remembered after a tough conversation?
* What’s one way you model repair in your leadership or team culture?