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?

Balancing The Three Centers Of Intelligence In Leadership: A Mini-Check-In

We don’t just lead with our minds.
We lead with our whole system - body, heart, and head.

In the Enneagram system and other somatic frameworks, we talk about the Three Centers of Intelligence:
* Mental (head): seeks clarity, certainty and safety.
* Emotional (heart): seeks identity, value and connection.
* Instinctive (body): seeks grounding, boundaries and autonomy

Each center offers an essential flavor of wisdom. And when its core needs feel unmet, it sparks specific emotional responses:
* Fear when safety is missing,
* Sadness when connection is lacking,
* Anger when autonomy is threatened.

These emotions aren’t just reactions, they’re signals. They help us access the motivation we need to address what matters most.

At the same time, we each have a unique relationship with these centers. Most of us overuse one, underuse another, and have a third that’s relatively balanced. Under stress or pressure, we tend to double down on our dominant center, which leads to reactive habits and greater imbalance in the system.

Here’s how this plays out for me: I over-use the Emotional center. I easily sense my emotional state and that of others but I can get trapped in emotions, at times unable to compartmentalize them. My Mental center is pretty balanced, I enjoy analyzing and making sense of things and this ability becomes even sharper in times of stress and crisis. But for a long time, my Instinctive center was a total blind spot. I would ignore not only fatigue and tension, but also my gut feelings.

Ask yourself:
* Which center do I tend to neglect?
* What small practice could help bring it more online?

For me, learning to regularly check in with my body - to really listen to it - helped me reconnect all three centers. It didn’t silence the others, it integrated them.

That’s why regular, intentional check-ins matter. Try this brief daily reflection:

* What thoughts keep playing in my mind?
* What emotions are under the surface?
* What is my body telling me?

Perfect balance is not the goal or even possible but a bit more integration leads to a wiser leadership - more grounded and attuned.

Why Self-Awareness Alone Isn’t Enough.

It’s a powerful moment when someone realizes:
“Oh. I do this. I shut down in conflict.”
“I go into fix-it mode the second there’s tension.”
“I perform confidence even when I feel totally disconnected.”

Awareness is essential. It’s the beginning of change.
But self-awareness alone doesn’t create transformation.
It doesn’t rewrite patterns.
It doesn’t build the capacity to respond differently when it matters most.

For that, we need practice.

Think of it like strength training at the gym.

Your daily centering or grounding practice? That’s the gym.
That’s where you build the muscle of presence—reconnecting to your breath, your body, your aliveness.
You’re not in a conflict. No one’s pushing your buttons. But you’re training anyway—with the low-level triggers of boredom, a long to-do list, or everyday distractions.

Then come the middle-of-the-road moments:
A tense conversation at work.
A last-minute interference with your plans.
The email that hits your ego just a little too hard.

These are your lighter weights.
You notice the pattern start to fire.
And you experiment: pause, breathe, choose a different response.
It’s hard. But you can lift it—because you’ve been building capacity quietly, on your own.

And slowly, you build the strength to handle the heavier weight—
The feedback that would’ve wrecked your week.
The conflict that used to spin you out of control.
The relational crisis that once felt impossible to handle with presence.

Integration means moving from “I know my pattern” to “I can feel the impulse—and choose something new.”

That shift isn’t instant.
It’s not just about insight.
It’s about capacity.
And capacity is built through practice.

So if you’re noticing your old pattern again—great. That’s step one.
Now ask yourself: How am I training for the life I want to lead?

Just like a personal trainer helps you build physical strength, a development coach helps you build the muscles of presence, resilience, and relational leadership.

I’ve been “in the gym” for almost two decades—personally and professionally. If you're ready to train, I'm here for you.

Who Are You Becoming?

And why this question matters more than “What’s next?”

At moments of transition—career changes, leadership challenges, relationships shifting—it’s tempting to reach for certainty.

We ask ourselves:
* What’s next?
* What should I do?
* How do I fix this?

But underneath it all, there’s a more powerful question:

Who am I becoming?

It’s a quieter, slower question—one that doesn’t rush to fix, but invites us to pause and listen inward.
To notice what’s no longer important—and what’s calling for attention.

Because while our circumstances might demand new strategies, our deeper work often invites new ways of being:
* Letting go of the parts of us that perform success instead of living authentically
* Disentangling our identity from external validation
* Reclaiming inner authority after years of outsourcing it to outside guidance

I currently see this with several coaching clients. Clients come to coaching in a time of transition, aware that they could keep doing “business as usual” and go after the next goal—or choose instead to make fuller contact with their whole self: the one who leads with authenticity, speaks with presence, and acts from values rather than pressure.

There’s nothing more delicious for a coach than supporting someone as they answer that deeper call.

That shift doesn’t come from pushing harder.
It comes from slowing down enough to hear what’s true now.

If you’re in a season of uncertainty, you don’t need all the answers.
But you can stay with the inquiry.

In times of uncertainty, “What’s next?” gives us motion.
But “Who am I becoming?” gives us direction.

If you’re standing at a threshold, this is your invitation to pause.
Not to rush ahead.
But to listen.
To notice what’s emerging.
To begin again—on purpose.

“Who am I becoming?” isn’t a puzzle to solve.
It’s a path to walk—deliberately, gently, with curiosity.

When The Enneagram Wounds Instead Of Heals

And why we must use it with humility.

Years ago, early in my journey with the Enneagram, I was so enthusiastic that I couldn’t stop myself—I started “helping” some people type themselves, sometimes a bit too boldly. That kind of confidence often comes with inexperience—with both the system and the process—and I was no exception.

I meant well. I wanted those friends and colleagues to see what I saw: a map that could unlock self-awareness, compassion, and growth. But in my beginner’s mindset, I was stereotyping the types—and it wasn’t helpful, or even appropriate. And sometimes, I was wrong. Very wrong. Because I don’t live in someone else’s interior world, I can’t know what their type is.

One friend, in particular, felt misunderstood and hurt. I still regret how I approached it with her.

When the Enneagram is used carelessly—even with the best intentions—it can wound. It can confirm people’s worst fears: that they’re being labeled, analyzed without consent—or worse, judged. And once someone feels that sting, it’s hard to trust the Enneagram again—even when it has so much to offer.

I understand the skepticism. Years ago, I probably contributed to it.

Since then, I’ve witnessed self-proclaimed “experts” confidently type—or re-type—others under their leadership. I’ve heard things like, “It’s all about energy—I can just sense it,” or “They’re exactly like my partner, and my partner is that type.” Never mind that somatic energy is deeply shaped by our early caregivers, or that behaviors and outward traits don’t always correlate clearly to type. There’s also the overlay of ethnicity, religion, and culture—not to mention the powerful influence of one’s dominant instinct.

I’ve seen colleagues and friends hurt by this kind of forceful typing. It’s a distortion of what the Enneagram is meant to offer.

But I’ve also experienced what happens when this work is done with care. The Enneagram allows us to identify strengths we can build on, while also revealing patterns that harm our relationships. It invites deeper honesty and responsibility. It gives language to things we sense but don’t fully understand. It doesn’t put us in a box—it shows us the box we’re already in, and how to move beyond it.

Personally, it expanded my empathy. I began to understand that others see the world in eight other ways—not just my own. That realization completely transformed my relationships.

So if you’re an Enneagram coach, teacher, or practitioner, here’s my unsolicited advice:

Lead with humility. Assume you don’t know (because you don’t!). Stay curious. Invite people in, instead of telling them what they are.

The Enneagram can illuminate and liberate—but only when it’s offered with consent, care, and deep respect for the mystery of being human.

Let’s use it with the reverence it deserves.

Why We Overcompensate (And How to Stop)

We all have moments when we go above and beyond—but not in a healthy way.

Overcompensating often looks productive, helpful, even admirable. But underneath, it’s usually driven by fear of falling short of a deeper need.

I used to over-explain and over-justify—thinking it made me authentic and thorough. But really, I was trying to avoid my fear of being misunderstood, and therefore disconnected from others. I didn’t believe I could be understood by not saying all the details. And I certainly didn’t trust that I could be misunderstood and still be okay.

Overcompensation wears many disguises:

* Talking too much to fill silence
* Retreating into quiet to avoid exposure
* Doubling down on being “right” to stay safe
* Taking on more work to prove worth
* Over-nurturing to show up as loving
* Staying vague or abstract to avoid committing
* Pushing against others to feel strong or protected

These patterns start as strengths—but get distorted when we over-rely on them to feel safe, valued, or in control.

From an Enneagram lens, they can reflect an imbalance in our three centers:

* A mind-dominant person might over-explain instead of trusting.
* A heart-driven person might people-please and lose their own voice.
* A body-dominant person might take quick action before attuning.

The antidote isn’t fixing yourself—there’s nothing to fix. It’s about noticing the moment you disconnect from yourself.

Pause. Breathe. Ask:

* What am I trying to protect, get, or avoid?
* What do I really need instead?

Great relationships with others start with a deep connection to self.

Where do you notice yourself overcompensating?

How The Three Instincts Shape The Way You Communicate (Part 3)

In Part 1, we looked at how the Self-Preservation (SP) instinct filters communication through a lens of safety, sustainability, and practicality.

In Part 2, we explored how the Sexual (SX) instinct brings focus, passion, and a drive for intensity to conversations.

Now we turn to the Social (SO) instinct—the one attuned to relationships, shared understanding, and how we fit into the bigger picture.

People with a strong SO instinct are naturally aware of context and connection. They tend to scan for social cues and care deeply about how information lands with others. Communication, for them, is often about building bridges, inviting participation, and contributing to a shared purpose.

That can look like:

Strengths:
* Inclusive language that considers the audience
* Ability to read the room and adjust tone or content accordingly
* Motivation to inform, uplift, or rally a group toward a goal

Challenges:
* Over-prioritizing group norms or harmony at the expense of candor
* Adapting too much to others’ expectations and losing personal voice
* Talking at people instead of with them when trying to manage impressions

Ever noticed someone who keeps a conversation accessible and engaging across contexts—from 1:1 interactions to large group settings—tracking reactions, weaving in multiple perspectives, and making sure people feel included? That’s likely SO at play.

In communication, SO types tend to seek relevance and connection—often trying to gauge what matters most in the moment and how their message will land for everyone. They’re frequently the ones shaping tone, pacing, and flow in team settings.

Under stress, this instinct may scramble to stay attuned: over-interpreting others’ body language, overthinking how they’re perceived, and performing instead of connecting.

Do you recognize any of these SO patterns in yourself—or in someone you collaborate with?

And that wraps up this series!

To communicate more effectively, it helps to understand the instinctual lens you're coming from predominantly, and recognize when it’s helping or hindering connection.

A great developmental goal? Growing in the strengths of the other two instincts.

Which instinct tends to lead for you—and what might shift if you made space for another one to step forward?

How The Three Instincts Shape The Way You Communicate (Part 2)

In Part 1, we explored how the Self-Preservation instinct influences communication through a lens of safety, sustainability, and practicality.

Now we turn to the Sexual instinct—the one fueled by intensity, depth, and a drive to go beyond one’s comfort zone.

Also called the "one-to-one" instinct, SX isn’t just about attraction or sex. It’s about energy and magnetism: a pull toward chemistry, resonance, and deep impact. People with a strong SX instinct often seek aliveness in interactions—and bring urgency or passion to their communication.

That can look like:

Strengths:
* Magnetic presence and dynamic expression
* Willingness to challenge or disrupt for the sake of growth
* Capacity to focus deeply on one person or idea

Challenges:
* Tendency to dominate or overwhelm in conversation
* Frustration when others don’t “match their energy”
* Prioritizing intensity over steadiness or inclusion

Ever found yourself lit up in a conversation with someone who speaks with conviction and depth—who pulls you in like you’re the only person in the room? That kind of presence often signals a strong SX instinct.

In communication, SX types may lead with boldness and seek to provoke a response—not to create conflict, but to spark new ideas and transformation. They may also feel restless or disengaged when things feel too flat, routine, or impersonal.

Under stress, this instinct can overextend: becoming reactive when the spark fades, or generating unnecessary intensity just to feel alive or elicit a response.

Do you recognize any of these SX patterns in yourself—or in someone you know?

Next up: how the Social instinct shapes communication through attunement to others, reading the room, and a drive to contribute.

How The Three Instincts Shape The Way You Communicate (Part 1)

Most people think communication is about words. Or tone. Or body language.
It is.
But that’s only part of the story.

Underneath our communication patterns—what we say, how we say it, when we speak up or go quiet—are instinctual drives that shape our focus, priorities, and interpersonal presence.

The Enneagram teaches that we each have three Instincts that help us survive and thrive:

1. Self-Preservation (SP) – focused on safety, comfort, and well-being

2. Sexual (SX) – drawn to intensity, chemistry, and depth

3. Social (SO) – attuned to group dynamics, belonging, and shared purpose

We all have all three—but one usually leads the way. It becomes our unconscious “first filter,” shaping what we notice, avoid, and emphasize—including in communication with others.

Let’s start with the Self-Preservation instinct. 

People with strong SP instincts are often steady, practical, and resource-conscious. In communication, this can show up as:

Strengths:
* Clear, grounded messaging
* Reliable follow-through
* Attunement to logistical needs (“Is this sustainable?” “Is there a plan?”)

Challenges:
* Hesitating to speak if the environment feels unsafe or unstructured
* Prioritizing stability over connection or belonging
* Being so self-contained that others miss their needs or input

Ever been in a meeting where someone seemed quiet—but then dropped a practical insight that grounded the whole room? That’s often SP at work.

SP instinct doesn’t mean introversion. It means communication is filtered through a need for sustainability and safety. And when under stress, that instinct might clamp down: fewer words, more internal focus, less emotional availability.

Next up: how the Sexual instinct shapes communication through intensity, out-of-the-box thinking, and a drive for transformation.

Do you recognize any of these SP patterns in yourself—or in someone you work with?

How About Moving from Performing Leadership to Servant Leadership?

Picture this: a leader kicks off every meeting with inspiration and passion. They speak of purpose, values, and big goals. The team nods along—but over time, fewer hands go up during team meetings.

At first, the energy felt motivating. But after a few months, the leader’s “inspiration” begins to narrow the field. Dissent is reflected back as negativity. Concerns are equated with complaints. Soon, team members stop naming what’s not working. Not because they don’t care—but because they sense: this isn’t welcome here.

This is performing leadership—where inspiring communication becomes a way to perform, and vision becomes a way to control the narrative and the culture.

Servant leadership offers another way. Coined by Robert Greenleaf in the 1970s, it’s grounded in a simple premise: the leader’s role is to serve the growth and well-being of others. That requires presence—not just being seen, but deeply seeing others. It also requires the willingness to relinquish control—and to be teachable.

Some core principles of servant leadership include:

• Putting others first – focusing on the needs of the team, stakeholders, and community.
• Empowering growth – helping others develop and realize their full potential.
• Leading with humility – being authentic, transparent, and open to feedback.
• Fostering collaboration – creating space where everyone feels valued and heard.
• Modeling integrity – upholding strong ethics and being worthy of trust.
• Thinking long-term – acting with sustainability and lasting impact in mind.

These aren’t soft skills—they’re serious leadership capacities that foster trust, resilience, and effectiveness.

When presence replaces performance, and curiosity replaces control, people begin to trust that their voice matters. And the organization benefits from the collective intelligence that’s unleashed.

Next time you speak, pause and ask: Am I leading to control—or to serve?

The Hidden Growth Edge for Leaders: Communicate for Connection, Not Control.

When we think about leadership, we often think about titles, hierarchies, and decision-making power. But the true heart of leadership — whether you're managing a team or leading your own life — lies in how we communicate.

And more often than we like to admit, communication becomes a tool for control rather than connection.

I know this firsthand.

Over the years I encountered leaders who held traditional leadership roles but struggled to embody true leadership:

• One supervisor demeaned team members to maintain authority.

• Another was so "hands-off" that projects felt like solitary expeditions.

• I worked under a manipulative leader who gaslighted team members to deflect blame and avoid accountability.

• And one leader made meetings uncomfortable by openly evaluating female team members' bodies with prolonged, uncomfortable stares.

Every one of these leaders was brilliant in their own right, yet lacked credibility because of a unique problem that they were struggling with without realizing it. Each experience shaped my understanding of what leadership is — and, just as importantly, what it isn't.

Leadership isn’t about control. It’s not about using authority as a shield or weapon.
Leadership is about connection — and by connection, I don’t mean needing to bond or being friends — I mean cultivating mutual respect, real understanding, and credibility in how we engage with one another.

Leadership starts with self-leadership.

We lead every time we take responsibility — for a project, a conversation, or a relationship — whether in a professional or personal setting.
To be a great leader, we can choose to communicate with respect and attunement — whether we’re speaking to a colleague, a client, a partner, or yourself.

Indeed, the habits we build in your internal dialogue show up everywhere else.

While my background is in STEM environments, the need to focus on connection and serving others applies across all fields.
In highly technical settings especially, it can be easy to fall into the trap of believing that "connection" is secondary to logic, efficiency, and innovation.

But the reality is: even the best team members will fail if they’re not part of a well-connected team with a well-attuned leader.
Connection isn’t a soft skill. It’s a force multiplier for everything else you’re trying to achieve.

So if you're looking for your next growth edge as a leader — or simply as a human being — start by noticing:
* Are you communicating to control?
* Or are you communicating to connect?

The difference shapes not just the conversations you have — it shapes the future you're building.

Your Words Aren’t the Problem — Your Nervous System Is.

Most communication breakdowns don’t happen because you said the wrong thing.
They happen because your presence said it first.

Years ago, I learned this vividly. I was in a conversation where I felt tense — but thought I was present, because I could intellectually understand my emotions and what caused them.
My words were calm and clear, as I had unconsciously blocked out the physical sensations.
I even said, “I’m fine, everything makes sense.”

The other person paused, looked at me, and said:
“No, you’re not. I can tell you’re upset.”

That moment stuck with me.
My nervous system was speaking louder than my words.
And the other person felt it — long before I did.
Clarity, I realized, is no substitute for being physically regulated.

This happens every day in professional settings:
A leader shows up for a hard conversation, armed with logic, clarity, and even kindness.
But their body tells a different story — tight jaw, shallow breath, tense voice.
The listener braces. The message from the speaker’s body is louder than what’s coming from their mental and emotional centers.

Because communication isn’t just about words.
It’s about presence.

When you’re dysregulated, even perfect phrasing and genuine empathy won’t fully land — because others sense the disconnect between words and energy.

But when you’re regulated and grounded, even tough conversations can build credibility and rapport.

Calm is contagious. So is tension.
And your team, clients, and collaborators always feel the difference — whether you notice it or not.

Before your next important conversation, don’t just prepare your words.
Ask yourself: Am I regulated enough to be received?

The Conversation You’re Avoiding Is Costing You More Than You Think.

In many workplaces — especially STEM — there’s an unspoken belief that avoiding conflict and letting things resolve themselves is the respectful thing to do.

Most people don’t avoid hard conversations because they’re careless or indifferent.
They avoid them because they care.
They don’t want to say the wrong thing, appear difficult, or hurt someone.

But the “conversation avoided” is often more expensive than the “conversation had.”

I see this all the time in my coaching work, especially with clients in STEM:
Someone’s performance is slipping.
A teammate is creating tension.
A boundary is being crossed.

When feedback goes unspoken or misunderstandings are ignored, the cost isn’t just emotional discomfort — it shows up in very real ways:
* Misaligned projects
* Bottlenecks and delays
* Eroded trust and morale
* Missed opportunities
* Top talent quietly walking out the door

Many clients have believed that holding back was the respectful thing to do.
They worried about damaging relationships or assumed the issue would resolve itself.
After all, they work in tech or science, not law or education — so how much communication could really be needed?

But communication is the foundation of all collaboration. It rarely self-corrects; the gap usually widens.

Here’s the good news:
Difficult conversations don’t have to be destructive.
When approached with attunement and curiosity — both to yourself and to the other person — you can speak what’s true to you in a way that invites connection and collaboration, not defensiveness.

I’ve seen it play out over and over:
The conversation avoided for months often takes only 20 minutes to resolve — and opens doors that have been closed for much longer.

And this isn’t about being “naturally good at communication.” It’s a skill that can be learned, practiced, and refined.

So if there’s a conversation you’ve been avoiding, ask yourself:
* What is it already costing me?
* What might become possible if I had it?

What helps you initiate the conversations that matter? Reach out if you need support.

What Realizing I Was The Problem Taught Me About Leadership

There was a moment with a colleague many, many years ago that I’ll never forget.

We were deep into a challenging project, and I was venting about how stuck I felt. She offered a suggestion—something simple, something I hadn’t tried quite that way. And I cut her off.

“I’ve already tried that. It doesn’t work.”

She paused, then tried another angle. “What if you…”

“I can’t. Believe me, I’ve looked at this from every direction.”

I thought I was being direct and realistic. But what I was really doing was shutting down help. My frustration had calcified into certainty. And in that moment, I wasn't leading—I was defending a wall I didn’t even know I’d built.

That evening, I realized how that interaction must have felt to her: invalidating, disheartening, like I didn’t give any worth to her input. Reflecting on the incident led to a deeper reckoning with how my lack of self-awareness was limiting not just collaboration—but my own growth.

Twenty years later, in my work with STEM professionals, I see this all the time: competent people whose unexamined stress reactions—dismissiveness, defensiveness, perfectionism—quietly erode the very credibility and creativity they want to foster.

Here are three self-awareness practices I use myself and recommend to every leader:

• Micro-check-ins: Before walking into a meeting or responding to a tough question, pause for 5 seconds. Ask yourself: What’s my internal state right now? Am I feeling reactive, depleted, cornered? Just naming it can loosen its grip.

• Impact feedback: Ask a trusted colleague, “What’s it like to be on the other side of me when things get hard?” Don’t defend. Just listen. Let the truth be a mirror.

• Values alignment audits: Pick a leadership value you care about (like “openness” or “humility”). At the end of the day, reflect: Did I embody that? Where did I miss the mark? These small check-ins build real change over time.

Self-awareness isn’t about self-judgment—it’s about developing the internal observer that allows us to make the best choices to lead with clarity, humility, and real influence. And the best leaders I know treat it as a daily practice.

How do you show up when you're not self-aware? And who do you become when you are?

Why Power, Not Just Competence, Shapes Workplace Communication

You explain your idea in a meeting. Silence. A few minutes later, someone more senior than you repeats the same idea—and suddenly, it’s brilliant.

Sound familiar? This frustrating dynamic happens in workplaces everywhere. If communication were just about quality and clarity, this problem wouldn’t happen. But in reality, power dynamics shape whose voice gets heard.

Power Dynamics: The Unspoken Factor in Communication

Workplace communication isn’t just about what you say—it’s about who has the authority to be listened to. Key factors at play:

* Title & Status – Senior leaders’ words carry more weight, even if their competency is not greater.
* Technical vs. Business Priorities – Engineers focus on feasibility; execs care about impact.
* Personality & Influence – Politically savvy individuals tend to get more airtime.

Ignoring these dynamics means:

❌ Your ideas get overlooked.
❌ You over-explain to prove expertise, weakening your authority.
❌ You hold back to avoid conflict, missing key opportunities, or you become louder, undermining your reputation.

Reclaiming Power: How to Build Credibility & Attunement

Even without formal authority, you can increase your influence through how you communicate.

✅ Frame Your Message Around What Matters to Decision-Makers – Tie insights to business impact.
✅ Listen and Ask Strategic Questions – Instead of defending, guide the conversation with well-placed questions and adjust accordingly.
✅ Use Credibility Signals – A steady tone, strategic pausing, and concise framing build credibility.
✅ Own Your Expertise Without Over-Explaining – Confidence is about precision, not excessive detail.

✅ Attune to Power Players Using the Enneagram – Different personalities process information differently; here are some example:

• Type 3 (Efficiency-Driven Executives) → Lead with success metrics and ROI.

• Type 5 (Logical Analysts) → Provide well-reasoned insights without fluff.

• Type 8 (Assertive Leaders) → Get to the point and project strength.

• Type 9 (Consensus Seekers) → Emphasize collaboration and alignment.

Your Experience?

Have you seen power dynamics shape workplace communication? What strategies help you get heard?

How Your Greatest Strengths Can Undermine Your Communication

Ever seen two well-meaning colleagues talk past each other?

Take Alex and Jordan. Alex (Type 3) is goal-oriented—straight to the point, no fluff. Jordan (Type 9) values harmony and wants everyone to feel heard. When Alex pushes for a quick decision, Jordan asks for more time to ensure all perspectives are considered. Alex sees this as indecisiveness, while Jordan feels dismissed. Frustration builds. Neither realizes they’re overusing their strengths—Alex’s drive for results and Jordan’s desire for consensus—and it’s backfiring.

The trap? Our greatest strengths can become blind spots in communication.

The Enneagram Communication Traps

* Type 1: The Improvement Trap
Strength: Clear, logical, and principled.
Trap: Your drive for accuracy can feel like criticism.
Idea: Balance precision with encouragement.

* Type 2: The Overhelping Trap
Strength: Warm, empathetic, and tuned into others' emotions.
Trap: Offering help that wasn’t asked for or softening hard truths too much.
Idea: Let people ask for what they need.

* Type 3: The Efficiency Trap
Strength: Clear, persuasive, and goal-focused.
Trap: Skipping over emotions or making others feel like a means to an end.
Idea: Slow down—connection builds trust.

* Type 4: The Depth Trap
Strength: Expressive, insightful, and willing to go deep.
Trap: Not everyone is ready for deep conversations right now.
Idea: Read the room—sometimes lighter is better.

* Type 5: The Knowledge Trap
Strength: Thoughtful, logical, and data-driven.
Trap: Too much information can overwhelm others.
Idea: Engage without overloading—interaction beats info overload.

* Type 6: The Caution Trap
Strength: Thoughtful, prepared, and great at spotting risks.
Trap: Too many “what-ifs” can overwhelm the conversation.
Idea: Offer solutions, not just problems.

* Type 7: The Enthusiasm Trap
Strength: Engaging, upbeat, and full of ideas.
Trap: Jumping too fast between topics.
Idea: Stay present—let each idea land.

* Type 8: The Intensity Trap
Strength: Direct, confident, and not afraid of hard conversations.
Trap: Your forcefulness can shut others down.
Idea: Strength doesn’t mean pressure—give space to respond.

* Type 9: The Harmony Trap
Strength: Diplomatic, calming, and inclusive.
Trap: Avoiding conflict or holding back your opinions.
Idea: Speak up—true harmony includes clarity.

Summary

Self-awareness in communication isn’t just about knowing your strengths—it’s about knowing when they’re working against you.

* Are you overusing your go-to strength?
* What does the other person need right now?
* How can you adjust to be more effective?