WHAT’S DRIVING YOUR STRIVING? The High Cost of Relentless Achievement

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The first few years of my adult life were the striving years. I worked hard... very hard. I chased credentials, opportunities, accomplishments, experiences, titles, recognition. If there was a ladder nearby, I was halfway up it. If there wasn’t, I would build one.

From the outside, it looked like I was productive, ambitious, and disciplined; the kind of person that people describe as 'driven,' and in some ways, that was accurate. I had energy, curiosity, and a willingness to work hard.

Inside, though, something else was going on. Beneath the ambition was a voice that I hadn’t yet learned to question. It carried a simple message that kept showing up in my thinking: 'you’re not enough'. That belief became the fuel behind my striving behaviour, even though I didn’t recognize it at the time.

Striving became the strategy I used to soothe the 'not good enough' feelings. Adding another achievement felt like a solution. Another milestone appeared, then another goal reached, and surely the next one would finally be the moment when I felt capable, complete, and secure. But that imagined moment of relief never quite materialized, and the finish line just seemed to push further away every time I got close to it.

Some high performers recognize this pattern once they slow down long enough to examine it, because what appears to be ambition on the surface is often something quite different underneath.

THE STRIVING TRAP

There's no doubt that ambition can be healthy. It can push us to learn, create, contribute, and improve. It’s often fueled by curiosity and purpose, and it can produce remarkable outcomes when it’s aligned with meaning.

Striving, however, is often fueled by something else entirely: fear. It could be fear of failure, fear of being exposed, and fear of not measuring up to some invisible standard that lives inside our heads. And sometimes the driver runs even deeper: a belief formed long ago that our worth can only be earned through achievement. I had an executive coaching client who uncovered the limiting belief that if she wasn't working herself to the point of exhaustion, she didn't deserve to relax or be joyful. What she eventually realized was that her exhaustion wasn’t the problem; it was the proof that, as long as she was depleted, she had earned the right to feel okay about herself. The exhaustion wasn’t just about the work anymore; it had become the evidence of her worth.

Researcher Brené Brown has written extensively about the relationship between shame, worthiness, and perfectionism. She describes perfectionism not as a healthy pursuit of excellence, but as a strategy people use to avoid criticism and judgment. In that sense, perfectionism isn’t really about doing great work. It’s about protecting ourselves from feeling inadequate. And that's an incredibly important distinction.

THE INVISIBLE DRIVERS OF RELENTLESS ACHIEVEMENT

Over the years, I’ve coached hundreds of leaders, many operating at the highest levels of their organizations. From the outside, these leaders often appear confident, accomplished, and highly capable. Their colleagues admire them, their teams rely on them, and their organizations reward them.

Once the coaching conversation begins, however, the internal story often begins to emerge, and a more complicated picture comes into view. Some leaders grew up in families where achievement was the price of approval. Others learned early that praise appeared mainly when they performed well. Some internalized the message that being valuable meant being exceptional. These experiences don’t disappear when someone becomes an executive. They simply follow them into the boardroom.

Those early lessons become powerful internal engines. Add perfectionism into the mix, and you get a drive that rarely switches off. The leader becomes productive, respected, and admired. At the same time, the internal experience can feel like a treadmill that keeps accelerating.

I came across some interesting research about the distinction between work engagement and workaholism (Wilmar Schaufeli & Arnold Bakker, 2008; Clark, Michel, Zhdanova, Pui, & Baltes, 2016), which shows that when people are driven by internal pressure rather than genuine engagement with their work, the long-term results are often less positive than expected. Studies examining compulsive work patterns have linked them to emotional exhaustion, stress, and reduced well-being, even among highly successful professionals.

In other words, relentless achievement carries a hidden cost that leaders only begin to see once they pause long enough to examine the forces driving their striving behaviour.

WHEN SUCCESS DOESN’T FEEL LIKE SUCCESS

One of the most revealing moments in coaching often happens after a major success; perhaps a promotion, a major project delivered, or a milestone that took years to reach.

We would expect to feel a level of achievement or celebration. What some leaders feel instead is relief. That reaction can feel surprising, yet what happens in that moment is that the internal critic finally goes silent. We proved something. We cleared the bar that had been looming over us. Then, before long, the voice returns and introduces the next challenge, asking the inevitable question that follows on the heels of every achievement: what comes next?

This is one of the clearest signs that striving is being driven by insecurity. The finish line keeps moving. Not because we lack discipline or ambition, but because the real goal was never the achievement itself. The real goal was feeling worthy, and no external accomplishment can permanently answer that question.

AMBITION WITH AWARENESS

Many remarkable things in the world have been built by ambitious people. Innovation, progress, and creativity often come from individuals who are willing to pursue bold ideas and difficult goals. The important distinction lies in the motivation behind the drive, because the source of that motivation determines whether ambition expands possibility or ultimately traps a leader on a moving treadmill of achievement.

Ambition says that we want to build something meaningful or explore what’s possible. Striving, driven by insecurity, says that we need to prove something about ourselves so that we can feel acceptable. Ambition expands possibility. Striving often narrows it.

When we begin examining our internal drivers, something interesting happens. We don’t lose our drive. In some cases, the opposite happens, and the drive becomes more powerful because it’s no longer fueled by pressure or fear. Instead, it starts drawing energy from curiosity, contribution, and purpose. The engine remains strong, but the fuel source changes.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Today's challenge requires about 20 minutes of reflection, so grab your journal and favorite pen, and find a quiet place where you can relax into this practice. Take a moment to reflect on your own striving tendencies, and allow yourself to be genuinely curious about what might be driving it.

Step 1: Identify a current goal. Choose something you're actively pursuing right now. Perhaps it's a promotion, a project, a business milestone, or a personal achievement that really matters to you.

Step 2: Examine the emotional energy behind that goal. Ask yourself what is truly motivating it. Notice whether the energy feels expansive, such as curiosity, purpose, contribution, or the excitement of building something meaningful.

Step 3: Look for a second layer of motivation beneath this. Ask yourself whether any part of the drive is connected to proving something about your worth, gaining approval, avoiding criticism, or quieting an internal voice that says you are not yet enough.

Step 4: Step back, review, and discover themes. Many leaders notice that their motivation contains more than one driver, and simply seeing those drivers clearly is often the beginning of greater freedom and choice.

Step 5: Use your new awareness to guide your choices. What adjustments might bring your striving back into alignment with the future you want to create? If the goal is fueled mostly by purpose and curiosity, then pursue it with renewed energy. But if you notice that insecurity or the need for approval is doing most of the driving, how could you approach the goal differently? What healthier boundaries do you need? How would you redefine success? What is the deeper reason this goal matters so much to you?

Ambition and insecurity often travel together, and recognizing that mixture is part of becoming a more conscious leader. There is no judgment required in that realization. Human beings are complex, and the forces that shape our drive rarely come from a single source.

What matters is awareness. When we understand the true engine behind our striving, we gain the freedom to decide whether that driver is still serving the future we want to create, or whether it is simply repeating an old story about our worth. 

That moment of clarity is often where the real shift begins. Striving doesn't disappear, but it becomes more intentional, more grounded, and more aligned with the life and leadership we actually want to build.

Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS: Avoiding The Trap of Similarity Bias

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Be honest. Who’s the person at work who makes you think, “How did you get this far without adult supervision?” You have one. I have one. We all have that one colleague. The one who overthinks everything and wants a subcommittee to review the subcommittee’s findings. Or the one who makes a snap decision and moves on without any real data to go on. The one who needs all the data before they can get into motion. The one who says, “I just have a gut feeling” without anything to base it on. The person who wants harmony over addressing the real challenges. Or the one who walks into the meeting and detonates it, just to see what happens.

At some point, if we are courageous enough to admit it, we have all muttered a private version of the phrase popularized by Thomas Erikson in his bestselling book, Surrounded by Idiots. It is a funny title that also reveals something uncomfortable. Most of us have silently nominated someone for that award.

BUT WHAT IF THEY’RE NOT IDIOTS?

Before you write them off as annoying, flawed, or completely out to lunch, consider this: what if they are simply wired differently than you? One of the most important leadership lessons I have learned, and relearned, is this: difference is not deficiency.

In Chapter 4 of Coaching Life, I explore personality types and wiring. Not as labels, and not as excuses, but as lenses. Our wiring shapes how we process information, communicate, make decisions, and interpret behaviour. It influences how quickly we speak, how much detail we need, how much risk we tolerate, and how we respond to tension.

Carl Jung’s early work on psychological types laid the foundation for many modern personality tools. Later models, such as DISC, Insights Discovery, and others, translated those preferences into practical language that leaders could actually use. Daniel Goleman’s work on emotional intelligence expanded the conversation by showing that success in leadership depends less on technical ability and more on self-awareness and relational skill.

And even with all this research available, we still fall into a very human trap. We assume that our way is the right and reasonable way. The grown-up way. The way that should probably be laminated and handed out during onboarding training.

HOW SIMILARITY BIAS BITES US IN THE BUTT

There is strong evidence that we are naturally drawn to people who think and behave like us. Social psychologists call this similarity bias. We trust people who feel familiar, interpret their behaviour more generously, and see their strengths more clearly.

When someone mirrors our pace, tone, or priorities, we experience it as competence. When someone does the opposite, we experience it as friction, or incompetence, or a threat to everything we hold dear.

Think about the people in your life and see if some of these contrasts feel familiar. These are not personality types, just examples of how different wiring can show up at work:

• The analytical leader experiences the fast decision maker as reckless.

• The fast decision maker experiences the analytical leader as paralysing.

• The relationship-focused leader experiences the direct one as abrasive.

• The direct leader experiences the relational one as overly sensitive.

Notice what just happened. In less time than it takes to refill your coffee, we turned a style preference into a personality defect. We moved from wiring difference to moral judgment in seconds. But your irritation is just information. It’s not proof of a character flaw in someone else. It’s just a signal that something about this interaction is rubbing against your own wiring and preferences. It’s your nervous system flashing a small yellow light that says, “This is not how I think, or would do this.”

In Chapter 13 of Coaching Life, I write about relational awareness and the ability to notice not only what is happening between us, but what is happening inside of us, too. When we feel a surge of frustration in a meeting, that reaction is data that tells us something about our preferences. It doesn’t necessarily tell us that there is something wrong with the other person.

DECISION MAKING: WHERE WIRING COLLIDES

It is in the arena of decision-making that we can really see wiring differences in action. Some people process externally by thinking out loud, and we can hear their brain working in real time. They explore possibilities verbally, and silence typically makes them uncomfortable.

Others process internally. They need time to reflect before speaking. Rapid-fire questions or fast-paced discussion feel chaotic and risky. They look calm, which makes the external processors slightly more uncomfortable.

Some of us decide quickly once we recognize a pattern, and we’re comfortable acting with only partial information. Others want to thoroughly examine risk, implications, and downstream impact before committing to action.

There is no inherently superior approach, although each camp is usually convinced that theirs is. Research on cognitive diversity suggests that teams with varied thinking styles can outperform more homogeneous teams, particularly when tackling complex problems. The challenge is not the diversity itself. It is our inability to interpret it without judgment.

Instead of saying, “You move too fast,” we think, “You are careless.” Instead of saying, “You need more time,” we think, “You lack backbone.” When leaders collapse wiring differences into character flaws, it can have a devastating effect on team culture.

EQ IS NOT ABOUT BEING NICE

Emotional intelligence is often misunderstood as simply empathy, warmth, or emotional expression. Those are elements of it, certainly, but they are not the whole picture. At its core, emotional intelligence is a behavioural range. It is the capacity to notice your default wiring and stretch beyond it when the situation requires something else.

If you are naturally direct, can you soften your delivery so that a more relational colleague can hear you? If you are highly relational, can you tolerate a sharper exchange without personalizing it? If you decide quickly, can you slow down long enough to invite dissent or diverse inputs? If you prefer deep analysis, can you act before you feel completely ready?

We can learn to adjust our communication based on who is in the room, without abandoning our authenticity. By expanding our repertoire, we can connect and communicate effectively with everyone on our team, not just the ones who are wired like us. That expansion requires effort that can be uncomfortable, and sometimes even feel threatening.

WHY CHANGE FEELS SO HARD

In Chapter 11, I explore the psychology of change. Our wiring becomes familiar territory because it has served us well. It helped us succeed, after all. So when someone suggests we adjust it, even slightly, it can feel like an attack on our competence. This is where leadership maturity shows up. Can you hold two truths at once? Your wiring is valid, and it is not universal.

You are not wrong for preferring speed, detail, harmony, candour, reflection, action, structure, or improvisation. But when you lead others, your preferences can’t be the only operating system in the room. The leader who refuses to stretch into different communication styles and preferences creates an invisible hierarchy that says: my way equals professional; your way equals problematic. And that can seem quite ego-driven to the people we lead.

The next time someone triggers you, pause. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with them?” try asking, “What is different about them? What pace do they prefer? How do they process information? What makes them feel secure? What makes them feel pressured?”

You may discover that the person you labelled as difficult is actually providing something your team needs. The cautious analyst may be preventing a costly mistake. The bold decision maker may be preventing stagnation. The relational leader may be building trust in ways you cannot see. Difference is not deficiency; it’s often the thing that brings the most value.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Think of one person at work who typically activates you.

Step 1: Name the irritation clearly.
What exactly do they do that gets under your skin? Is it their pace? Their tone? Their need for detail? Their bluntness? Their hesitancy? Vague irritation is not useful data. Be specific.

Step 2: Decode the wiring beneath the behaviour.
Translate each irritation into a neutral description of their preference. Fast might mean decisive. Slow might mean reflective. Direct might mean candid. Diplomatic might mean attuned to impact. Ask yourself:

• What decision-making style is this?

• How do they appear to process information, externally or internally?

• What might make them feel competent or secure in a discussion?

Step 3: Examine your own bias.
Which of their behaviours clashes most strongly with your default wiring? What does that reveal about your preferences? Where might you be interpreting difference as deficiency?

Step 4: Look for the value.
Where could this style strengthen the team? What risk does it mitigate? What blind spot of yours might it be balancing? In what way are you grateful for this?

Step 5: Choose a deliberate stretch.
Select one small behavioural adjustment for your next interaction. If you move quickly, slow your pace and invite input. If you analyse deeply, commit sooner. If you soften everything, be clearer. If you are blunt, add context. Do not reinvent your personality – expand your range.

Step 6: After the interaction, reflect.

• What shifted in the dynamic?

• How did it shape their reaction?

• What did you learn about them?

• What did you learn about yourself?

RESOURCES FOR EXPLORING PERSONALITY AND WIRING

If this topic intrigues you and you would like to go deeper, there are several credible starting points. These tools are most powerful when used not as labels, but as mirrors, to help us see our patterns, widen our behavioural range, and interpret others with more generosity.

• Thomas Erikson’s Surrounded by Idiots. A popular business book that interprets behavioural differences through a simplified DISC-based lens.

• William Moulton Marston’s DISC theory. The behavioural model that later informed many workplace assessments.

• Insights Discovery. A Jungian-based colour model widely used in organisations to build self-awareness and relational skill.

• The Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. A structured application of Jung’s work that explores preferences in perception and decision-making.

• Daniel Goleman’s Emotional Intelligence. The research that expanded leadership conversations beyond technical competence.

• The Wisdom of the Enneagram, by Don Richard Riso and Russ Hudson. A deeper exploration of motivation, fear, and developmental growth patterns.

• Carl Jung’s Psychological Types. The original foundation for much of modern personality theory.

• Coaching Life: Navigating Life’s Most Common Coaching Topics, by Leslie Rohonczy, available in paperback and audiobook

If you are ready to grow your behavioural range and lead across personality differences with more skill, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

'ME-FIRST' CULTURE AT WORK: The Demise of ‘WE’ in the Age of ‘ME’

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Last year, I sat in on a senior leadership meeting that felt less like a strategy session and more like an orchestra rehearsal gone wrong. It felt chaotic! Everyone was playing their hearts out, and no one was listening. Each leader came armed with their slides, metrics, updates, entrenched points of view, and well-rehearsed arguments. Every function was defending its priorities. Everyone was articulate, intelligent, passionate, and striving to be 'seen'. There was no shared tempo; no collective score, and no one stepping back to ask, “What is best for the collective? What does the whole need?”

I have been noticing this pattern for years, in coaching sessions, in corporate events, and across media feeds: a steady tilt toward self-protection and self-promotion over shared purpose. Call it ambition if you like, but it feels like something deeper to me. The rise of a “me-first” workplace has been building for a long time.

HOW DID WE GET HERE?

Over the past three decades, Western societies have undergone a measurable shift toward hyper-individualism. Sociologist Robert Putnam wrote about the decline in civic participation and social capital in his book, Bowling Alone, showing how community involvement, from clubs to volunteerism, steadily decreased across North America. The patterns he identified in the 1990s have only intensified.

Journalist Sebastian Junger explored a related theme in his book Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, which is one of my favourite books about how we are stronger together. Drawing on history, anthropology, and his reporting on war veterans, Junger points out that humans are wired for tight-knit interdependence, and that modern Western society has weakened many of the shared hardships and collective bonds that once gave people a sense of meaning. When belonging erodes, people don't simply become more independent; they often become more anxious, more isolated, and more likely to build their identity around status rather than contribution. That observation has profound implications for workplace culture.

Technology is also reshaping how we construct identity. Sherry Turkle’s work at MIT points to how digital platforms nudge us to 'perform ourselves' rather than fully engage with others authentically. Algorithms reward visibility and amplification. Attention, likes and follows become currency, and we learn to chase it.

Add to this the rise of monetized identity, influencer culture, and personal brand as career insurance in unstable labour markets. LinkedIn profiles become highlight reels, Instagram turns daily life into curated narratives, and the gig economy encourages workers to market themselves continuously. In many Western democracies, competitive market thinking has gradually pushed the language of individual rights to the forefront, with no room for conversations about shared responsibility.

Layer in performance-at-all-costs organizational environments, where individual metrics, dashboards, and promotion systems reward personal achievement far more visibly than collective contribution.

None of these forces are malicious. They evolved gradually, and responded to real economic and technological shifts. But together, they've shifted our centre of gravity. As a culture, we've elevated individual identity above shared responsibility and obligation. We've optimized for recognition over reciprocity, and it's showing up at work.

WHERE THE DRIFT BECOMES VISIBLE

We see this slide into soloist mode appears inside organizations, in leaders who protect their function instead of tending to the enterprise as a whole. Or when personal brand building starts to consume more energy than team building. “Not my job” thinking creeps into conversations. We celebrate the hero who stayed late to save the day, but overlook the disciplined and collective coordination that would have prevented the crisis in the first place. Performance conversations begin to feel like personal threats rather than shared calibration. Visibility edges out contribution, and underneath much of it sits our old pal, anxiety.

Research on social comparison theory by psychologist Leon Festinger, and later extended in contemporary social media studies, shows that constant exposure to curated success increases comparison behaviour. And comparison fuels insecurity, which narrows the focus toward self-protection. When leaders feel perpetually evaluated, they protect reputation. When employees feel constantly compared, they guard status. When attention narrows to self-preservation, collective awareness declines.

Belonging research consistently shows that strong social connection predicts wellbeing and performance. When connection weakens, anxiety increases. And when anxiety increases, collaboration suffers. It becomes a reinforcing loop. More comparison, more self-focus, less collective trust, and more anxiety.

We are social pack animals, and evolutionary psychology is clear on this point. Human survival historically depended on cooperation, shared labour, and mutual protection. “Every person for themselves” has never been a sustainable survival strategy. And yet culturally, here we are.

WHY THIS MATTERS FOR ORGANIZATIONAL PERFORMANCE

If you look at Edelman’s annual Trust Barometer, you’ll see just how shaky institutional trust has become across Western democracies, including here in Canada. Trust is not abstract; it's a performance variable. When trust declines, decision-making slows, innovation drops, and defensive behaviours increase.

McKinsey has done some interesting research using their Organizational Health Index which shows that companies scoring highest on shared direction and collective accountability are significantly more likely to outperform their peers financially.

When leaders optimize for personal recognition over shared outcomes, there are always telltale signs. See if any of these sound familiar: silo protection increases, succession planning weakens, cross-functional friction grows, innovation slows as risk becomes reputational, and burnout rises as individuals feel they must constantly prove their value.

Think back to that leadership meeting that felt like a rehearsal gone wrong. A real orchestra is disciplined, coordinated in their desire to create something collectively, and anchored in a shared purpose. Musicians spend years learning not just how to play, but how to listen. They watch the conductor. They track subtle shifts in dynamics, and soften when another section carries the melody. They know when their role is to lead and when their role is to support. And everyone is playing from the same score.

When that discipline disappears, and each musician pushes for the spotlight, the result is chaotic noise. Volume replaces harmony, timing fractures, and the piece loses its shape. In organizations, the same thing happens in the absence of shared intent and collective restraint. Having a team of strong soloists doesn't create better performance; it creates distortion.

THE CULTURAL WAKE-UP CALL

This 'me-first' culture we're witnessing reflects a broader cultural current that's been building for years. As leaders, we decide which behaviours get reinforced, so if we reward individual heroics over collective stewardship, we accelerate the drift. Corporate incentives tied to individual performance often create counterproductive behaviours, damage relationships and create burnout in their wake. Why would we want to reward the amplification of personal brand more than enterprise contribution?

When we prioritize what is individually visible over what advances a shared objective, we make our values unmistakable: in effect, our metrics and incentives teach people that personal exposure matters more than collective impact. Left unchecked, that lesson becomes the culture.

This reaches far beyond workplace harmony. Organizations that can't coordinate beyond individual ambition struggle and even collapse when conditions tighten. And most leaders I work with can feel that tightening in their bones. The margin for error is thinner, decisions travel faster, and reputational consequences land harder. You can feel it in your calendar, in your inbox, in the pace of change your teams are absorbing. This moment in time demands that we think beyond ourselves and act for the good of the whole.

Prioritizing the collective good is key to institutional resilience, and yet, much of our development energy still tilts toward individual visibility and positioning. Far less attention goes to teaching leaders how to share power, hold tension, or step back so the whole can move forward.

A corporate culture that prizes the soloist over the symphony eventually forgets how to play together. And as complexity accelerates around us, losing that collective capacity carries real consequences for trust and performance. A room full of screeching soloists creates one hell of a cacophonous noise. But beautiful music happens when every player focuses on contributing to the collective whole.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE: 30-MINUTE LEADERSHIP DISCUSSION GUIDE

Share this article with your peers and leader, and put it on the agenda for your next weekly meeting. Use the handy discussion guide below to have a conversation about how this shows up in your organization, and how you might address some of the challenges that come along with it.

Facilitation Guidance
• Allocate 30 minutes for the discussion, and frame it as a curious, blame-free exploration of the topic
• Encourage candour without defensiveness
• Capture patterns and themes, not names

PART 1: OBSERVATION

1. Where do we see “me-first” behaviour inside our own organization?

2. What behaviours are we currently rewarding that may unintentionally reinforce individual over collective thinking?

3. Where do we see personal brand overtaking enterprise stewardship?

PART 2: IMPACT
4. How is this affecting cross-functional trust?
5. Where has anxiety or reputational fear limited collaboration?
6. What is the cost to performance when we protect our own metrics rather than the shared outcome?

PART 3: SELF-EXAMINATION
7. In what ways might I personally be reinforcing individual recognition over shared responsibility?
8. What would it look like for our team to operate more like an orchestra and less like competing soloists?

If you see any of the following behaviours, gently guide participants back to the discussion objectives:

• Leaders defending territory more than strategy

• Reluctance to share credit

• Hesitation to challenge peers for fear of optics

• Metrics optimized locally but not globally

• High visibility, low cohesion

Close the discussion by asking: What is one behaviour we will experiment with and consciously shift over the next quarter, to strengthen the “we”?

If you or your leadership team want help in facilitating these important cultural conversations in your organization, reach out for a free exploratory conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

VISIBILITY IS NOT SELF-PROMOTION: Legible Leadership Presence

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You can be respected, competent, and indispensable, and still be invisible where power and influence are actually shaped. You do great work, deliver on objectives, carry responsibility, and when the strategic conversation shifts, your voice isn’t helping to shape it. Not because you weren’t invited to the table, but because you assumed your contribution would speak loudly enough on its own. Then, when decisions move ahead without your perspective, disappointment lands with a thud.

VISIBILITY IS NOT SELF-PROMOTION

Many leaders carry the limiting belief that seeking better visibility equals ego. It's as if the desire to be seen gets tangled up with the idea of performative posturing, self-promotion, or 'playing the game.' If we value substance, humility, and doing work that actually matters, that association feels off-putting, distasteful, or risky. So we keep our head down and trust that our good work will speak for itself. 

For a long time, that approach worked. It doesn’t anymore. Not because organisations have suddenly lost their values, but because the system has changed. Complexity has increased, decisions move faster, work is more distributed, and influence now depends not just on contribution, but on whether that contribution is visible, understood, and connected to what the organization is trying to do next. Think of visibility not as noise, but as legibility.

WHEN GOOD WORK STAYS INVISIBLE

Most leaders who struggle with building their visibility aren’t disengaged or insecure. They’re often deeply committed, values-driven, humble, and thoughtful about not centering themselves unnecessarily. They don’t want to dominate airtime or oversell. And they definitely don’t want to be mistaken for someone who talks more than they deliver.

So they wait until the work is perfect; until they’re asked; until the moment feels fully earned. And by the time they speak, the conversation has often moved on. This isn’t a personal shortcoming. It’s a mismatch between how leadership actually works now and how we may have been taught it works.

Decades of research in organizational psychology show that decision makers rely heavily on what is accessible in the moment, not on what exists elsewhere in the system. This cognitive shortcut is known as availability bias, and it shapes far more leadership decisions than anyone likes to admit. If your contribution isn’t present where meaning is being made, it doesn’t shape the outcome, no matter how solid it is.

EXECUTIVE PRESENCE IS FELT, NOT PERFORMED

Executive presence is often misunderstood as polish, confidence, or gravitas. Like a jacket you put on, a tone you adopt, or a posture you perfect.

In practice, presence is something other people experience. It’s the sense that you’re here, that you’re tracking what matters, and that you’re willing to offer your thinking into the shared space in service of the work. Presence helps people orient by providing context and making complexity easier to navigate.

While it may feel like restraint or good manners, when leaders pull back in the name of humility, the system doesn’t experience it that way. It experiences them as absent, and that absence has consequences.

THE COST OF BEING UNSEEN

When capable leaders remain unseen, organisations pay a price: decision-making narrows, risks go unnamed, and familiar patterns repeat. Over time, the same voices shape the future, not because they are always right, or even the most insightful, but because they are the most present. This is how organisations end up under-leveraging talent while wondering why innovation feels harder than it should.

It is also how leaders begin to disengage. Being overlooked rarely triggers anger first; it more often creates doubt. You may start questioning whether your perspective is wanted, if your instincts are sound, or if it feels safer to remain in execution than to step into influence.

That internal contraction is easy to miss, but over time, it steadily erodes confidence, connection, and impact.

VISIBILITY AS LEGIBILITY

Here’s the reframe that changes the conversation: visibility isn’t about drawing attention to yourself; it’s about making your thinking, contribution, and intent legible to the system you’re part of, so others can work with it.

By 'legibility', I mean making your thinking visible enough that others can easily understand what you see, what you’re prioritizing and why, and how you’re making sense of the situation. Legibility answers questions people are often already carrying, whether they say them out loud or not. What are you noticing that others may be missing? What do you believe matters most here, and why? How does this decision connect to where the organization is heading? Who will be most impacted and how?

This kind of visibility is about presence, and doesn’t require broadcasting or self-promotion. It requires the willingness to place your perspective into that shared space early enough that it can still shape understanding.

Sometimes that presence shows up as naming a pattern no one else has articulated yet, or as linking today’s decision to a downstream consequence that others haven't considered. Or it can look like offering context that helps the group see the situation more clearly. None of this is about elevating yourself; it’s about stewardship of the work and the system you are responsible for.

THE CANADIAN CONTEXT

There is an additional layer worth naming here. Our Canadian culture is steeped in norms of politeness, humility, and not drawing undue attention to ourselves. Standing out can feel uncomfortable, even suspect. Speaking too directly can feel impolite. Naming one’s contribution can feel uncomfortably close to self-promotion. These instincts, baked into us as Canadians, are cultural strengths that support trust, collaboration, and social cohesion.

The tension shows up when those same instincts mute our leadership voice. Withholding our perspectives in the name of humility, particularly in organizations that rely on consensus and shared decision-making, doesn’t protect the collective; it leaves the group working at a disadvantage, with less information, context, and perspectives.

Think of it this way: visibility is not about individual advancement; it’s about serving the collective intelligence of the group. Making your thinking legible to others helps others orient, connect dots, and make better decisions together. This is not the self-oriented, ego-driven personal branding cliché that many of us find so distasteful. It’s a contribution to the collective act of leadership.

Seen through this lens, presence is not about asserting yourself. It’s about contributing your share of clarity so the whole system can function more intelligently.

WHY VISIBILITY FEELS UNCOMFORTABLE

For many leaders, discomfort with visibility isn’t about capability so much as deeply personal patterns formed early in their careers or lives. Some learned early on that speaking up carried risk. Others learned that being visible attracted scrutiny they didn’t want. For some, visibility became associated with being judged, misunderstood, or sidelined rather than supported.

Those patterns don’t dissolve just because we have a senior title. They often travel with us, shaping how much space we take up, how quickly we offer our perspective, and how long we wait before entering a conversation.

When these instincts run the show without being examined, they begin to limit impact. Not in obvious or dramatic ways, but through a gradual narrowing of influence and participation. The work isn’t to override or bulldoze those instincts. It’s to look at them honestly and ask whether the cost of staying invisible now outweighs the risk of being seen. In most senior roles, I can tell you it does.

CONTRIBUTION WITHOUT BROADCASTING

There is a middle ground between disappearing and showboating, where we find the most effective leaders contributing with intention and grounded in relevance rather than self-protection or self-promotion.

It often looks like offering our perspective early enough to shape direction, rather than waiting until it feels completely safe to share our opinion. It means speaking to the work and the system, rather than narrating our own effort. It also means trusting that our thinking adds value, even when it is still forming.

Leaders who work this way don't necessarily speak more than others. They speak when it matters, and in service of clarity. Presence, in this sense, is not about volume or dominance. It is about timing, orientation, insight, and contribution.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

This challenge is not about becoming louder, more polished, or more visible for visibility’s sake. It is about allowing more of your thinking to be seen in places where it can genuinely make a difference for the work and for the collective.

Treat this as a practice rather than a personality change. The aim is to experiment with presence, not to perform or self-promote.

1. CHOOSE THE RIGHT CONTEXT: Select one recurring meeting, forum, or decision-making space over the next two weeks where direction is set, priorities are shaped, or meaning is being made (not a purely operational or transactional update meeting).

2. NOTICE YOUR HABITUAL PATTERN: Before the meeting, take a few minutes to reflect on how you usually show up in this space. Where do you tend to hold back? Where do you wait until you are asked? Where do you assume your work will speak for itself?

3. IDENTIFY YOUR LEGIBLE CONTRIBUTION: Ask yourself the following reflection questions: What am I noticing here that would help others orient? What context, pattern, or implication might be missing from the conversation? How does this decision connect to what we are trying to achieve more broadly?

Choose one observation that feels useful to the system or to the collective knowledge of the group (not impressive to you).

1. PLACE YOUR THINKING EARLIER: In the meeting, offer that observation earlier than you normally would. Keep it simple and grounded. Avoid over-explaining, justifying, or softening your point with excessive caveats. Your task is to make your thinking legible, not to massage or defend it.

2. OBSERVE THE IMPACT: After the meeting, reflect on two things. First, what shifted in the room once your perspective was introduced? Second, what did you notice in yourself when you chose presence over restraint?

This practice is not about ego or performance. Practiced this way, visibility becomes a generous act of leadership and a contribution to the collective intelligence of the system.

If this article resonates, and you want to grow your leadership visibility, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com

HAS YOUR EXPERIENCE BECOME A LIABILITY? When What You Know Gets in Your Way

(LISTEN TO THE NARRATED AUDIOARTICLE VERSION)

The first time he said it, she smiled politely.
He tried again. The second time, she nodded along, already formulating her response.
His third repetition had a certain ‘edge’ in his voice.
And by the fourth, the room became very still.

I was observing a senior vice president in action. Sitting across from her direct report in a one-on-one meeting, she seemed certain about where he was headed in the conversation. After all, she’d seen this situation many times in her career, and could anticipate his concerns, the angle, the familiar hesitation. Her attention wasn’t careless. It was efficient.

Except for one pesky little fact: that wasn’t what he was saying. Not even close! What she thought she knew for sure had already shaped what she unconsciously expected to hear. When his actual position finally registered for her after four attempts, it stopped the conversation cold. She wasn’t defensive or dismissive, just visibly disoriented. It wasn’t even that she disagreed. Her certainty had filtered out important data before it had a chance to even register.

Moments like this are easy to miss in real time. Nothing dramatic happened, and no voices were raised, but something important was revealed. Her experience had shifted from being an asset to creating interference, not because she lacked skill, but because her past success had closed the loop too early. 

EXPERIENCE ISN’T THE PROBLEM. FINALITY IS

We tend to speak about experience as though it automatically produces wisdom. The more years, the sharper the judgment. The longer the track record, the better the instincts.

Often, that’s true. Experience does build pattern recognition. It helps leaders move faster with less information. It allows for decisive action in situations that would overwhelm less experienced colleagues.

The trouble begins when experience becomes a filter, narrowing what leaders bother to question and what they no longer think to ask. When leaders rely too heavily on what they’ve seen before, perception can narrow rather than deepen. New information gets unconsciously screened. Signals that don’t fit the familiar narrative are discounted, not deliberately, but as a form of cognitive efficiency.

Efficiency often feels like competence, which is why it so rarely triggers self-doubt. Meetings end on time. Decisions move forward. Issues appear resolved. Leaders get recognized and reinforced for speed and clarity, not for pausing to explore what might be missing. That’s what makes the cost so hard to spot. By the time misalignment surfaces, it often shows up downstream, in disengagement, rework, or conversations that feel harder than they should.

WISDOM VERSUS CERTAINTY

One of the most important distinctions in leadership is the difference between wisdom and certainty. Wisdom holds experience lightly while it stays alert to context. It assumes there is always more to learn, especially when the situation looks and feels familiar.

Certainty closes the loop early. It sounds confident, calm, and decisive. Teams often experience it as reassuring, and leaders experience it as mastery. But certainty also has a blind spot: it resists disruption.

When the environment changes faster than our past experience can track, certainty starts to interfere with judgment. We begin mistaking confidence for accuracy, not because we’re careless, but because our internal models haven’t been updated to match the current level of change or complexity.

WHEN PATTERN RECOGNITION HARDENS

As humans, we're wired for pattern recognition from the beginning. Recognizing patterns is a powerful leadership capability that helps us to see around corners, anticipate risks, and connect dots others haven’t yet noticed. Over time, though, pattern recognition can harden into pattern entrenchment.

When that happens, we stop asking, “What’s unique or different in this case?” and start assuming we already know the answer. Curiosity gets replaced by speed. Listening moves away from trying to understand what might be different this time to listening for evidence that confirms what we already know or believe.

This pattern often shows up in leaders who have been rewarded for their judgment. Each success reinforces the belief that their reading of situations is reliable. Over time, that reliability can turn into reflex. And reflex is not the same as responsiveness.

THE COST OF OUTDATED INTERNAL MODELS

Many of us learned to lead in less chaotic or ambiguous environments than the ones we now operate in. Decision cycles were slower; hierarchies were clearer; dissent travelled differently.

But leaders are navigating something different in today’s world: more voices, greater tension, cultural challenges and polarization, and an increasing number of competing truths, all layered on top of already complex technical decisions.

When leaders don’t update their internal models, they often feel blindsided by outcomes that no longer line up with their intent. Trust begins to wobble, engagement dips, and feedback becomes harder to interpret, leaving the leader with a nagging sense that something is off, even if they can’t quite name it.

What’s often off in these moments is not capability, but curiosity and adaptability.

LEARNING AGILITY, CURIOSITY, AND TRUST

Learning agility is about staying open to questioning your own assumptions, especially when they’ve served you well. It’s the willingness to let curiosity interrupt certainty. And it’s the discipline of staying interested in what’s actually happening in this specific situation, not just what usually happens.

Research from the Center for Creative Leadership has consistently highlighted learning agility as a differentiator in leadership effectiveness, particularly in complex, changing environments. Leaders who stay curious, reflective, and willing to recalibrate are more likely to sustain trust and performance over time.

Curiosity does something else that certainty can’t: it also builds trust. When leaders stay genuinely curious, they signal respect. They create space for difference, making it safer for people to offer information that doesn’t fit the popular opinion. Over time, that shapes culture far more than decisiveness alone ever could.

WHAT THIS LOOKS LIKE IN PRACTICE

When practicing curiosity, notice how quickly you form an opinion. Make a conscious choice to slow that moment down, and ask questions you don’t already have answers for (that's how you know you've asked a genuinely curious question). Check in on your intention: are you listening to learn, or listening to confirm?

In practice, it can also mean inviting your team into the process, not by asking for validation, but by creating space for challenge. Leaders who do this well tend to make better decisions, earn deeper trust, and adapt more effectively as complexity increases.

If you’ve been successful for a long time, think of this as not as a warning, but as a mirror. Experience doesn’t stop being valuable, but it does need to stay alive. The leaders who continue to grow are not the ones who abandon what’s worked, but the ones who remain curious about when it might need updating. Past success is only a liability when it goes unexamined.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

1. 1.      NAME THE MOMENT: Choose one real, upcoming decision, conversation, or recurring issue where you typically rely on instinct and past experience, or a situation where you usually move quickly because it feels familiar. This might be a team discussion, a performance issue, a strategic decision, or a pattern you think you already understand.

PAUSE THE INTERNAL LOOP: Before responding, pause long enough to surface your assumptions. Ask yourself:

• What am I assuming I already know about this situation?

• What story am I telling myself about how this usually goes?

• What real evidence do I have for my assessment?

• What might I be overlooking because it feels familiar?

PRACTISE CURIOSITY OUT LOUD: In the conversation, ask a question that genuinely invites new information. For example:

• What might I be missing here?

• What’s different about this situation than it appears at first glance?

• If we didn’t have to worry about ‘x’, what would we be doing differently?

• If we slowed this down, what else should we be paying attention to?

OBSERVE THE SHIFT: Pay attention to what happens next. Notice not just the content of what you hear, but how the room responds. Does the conversation open up? Do people offer information they hadn’t shared before? Does the energy change when certainty gives way to curiosity?

REFLECT AFTERWARD: After the interaction, take a few minutes to reflect:

• What new information emerged once I slowed down?

• Where did my initial assumptions hold, and where didn’t they?

• What did I notice about my own listening when I chose curiosity over speed?

• What do I know now that I didn’t know before?

This is not about abandoning experience. It’s about keeping it alive by letting it inform your judgment without prematurely closing the loop.

If this article resonates with you, and you're interested in how Executive Coaching can help you, reach out for a free exploratory conversation with me at www.leslierohonczy.com.

AM I COACHABLE? A 5-Step Self-Assessment For Leaders Considering Executive Coaching

LISTEN TO THE NARRATED AUDIOARTICLE VERSION

Are you coachable? How do you actually know?

Have you received feedback about something you know you should work on, but you’re not fully convinced you’ll be able to shift it? Are you curious about executive coaching, but unsure whether you have what it takes to do the work well? Does having coaching support sound appealing, but you’re not sure this is even the right time to take the leap with a qualified coach?

Here’s what may already feel familiar to you. You’re not lacking in capability or motivation, but there’s likely something you can’t yet see clearly: a blind spot, a limiting belief, or a habitual response that’s shaping your behaviour. You’re thoughtful, competent, and you’ve likely spent a great deal of time analysing your situation, and still, something feels stuck.

You may have replayed the feedback conversation, talked it through with trusted people, read the latest trending books, attended the workshops, or listened to the podcasts. On paper, you may even know what you should do next. Yet when the moment arrives, the behaviour doesn’t quite shift, the decision doesn’t land, or the same pattern shows up again. Sometimes awareness is enough to be able to change a behaviour. But when insight doesn’t translate into different choices or behaviours, and you’re not sure how to work with that gap or blind spot, that’s where coaching can make a meaningful difference. 

If any of this sounds familiar, you’re in good company. Many people wrestle with the vulnerability it takes to seek this kind of support. When curiosity about coaching appears, it’s typically because you want greater awareness and traction. The question becomes: are you ready?

Over the years, I’ve worked with hundreds of leaders across sectors, levels, and personalities, and one thing has become very clear: executive coaching can be powerful, practical, and genuinely transformative. It can also be frustrating, circular, and expensive when the timing or focus is off. That difference often gets described as coachability, but it’s worth pausing here to name a distinction that will shape how you read the rest of this article.

This article’s designed to help you assess that for yourself with honesty and without judgement, while also helping you separate two things that are often blurred together: coachability and readiness. It isn’t meant to convince you to hire me or to position executive coaching as a cure-all. Its purpose is to help you decide whether this is the right conversation for you, right now.

WHAT COACHABILITY IS AND WHAT IT IS NOT

Before diving in, one important clarification. Coachability and readiness are related, but they’re not the same thing.

Coachability speaks to how you typically relate to feedback, uncertainty, and personal change. Readiness speaks to timing, context, and capacity, including what else is happening in your life and in the system around you.

You can be deeply coachable and still not ready. You can also feel ready for support, but struggle with some of the habits that make coaching effective. This assessment’s designed to help you notice both.

Coachability isn’t about being agreeable, positive, or easy to work with. Some of my most coachable clients are sceptical, analytical, and openly challenging, while some of the least coachable are polite, enthusiastic, and highly articulate about why nothing can really change.

Coachability also isn’t about having a clear goal perfectly defined right out of the gate. Many people start coaching with a vague sense of discomfort rather than a neat objective, and that isn’t a problem. In fact, it’s often a strong starting point for the coach and client to begin exploring and then crystallising the coaching topic.

Coachability’s about how you relate to yourself, your patterns, personality wiring, and defence mechanisms, and the possibility that your current way of operating, however successful it’s been in the past, may now be limiting you.

The most reliable way to assess coachability isn’t through labels or personality types, but through how you respond to a small set of very specific questions.

A SELF-ASSESSMENT YOU CAN ACTUALLY USE

Read the prompts below slowly and resist the urge to “perform insight,” meaning the temptation to sound self-aware rather than notice what’s actually happening for you in real time. Pay attention to your internal reactions as much as your answers, because irritation, resistance, relief, and curiosity are all useful data.

To make this more practical, I invite you to use a simple rating scale alongside each question. This isn’t a scorecard, and it isn’t a pass or fail test. It’s a way to notice patterns in how you typically respond.

After each question, rate yourself on a scale from 1 to 5 based on which description fits you most often.

1 = I’m protective or defensive by nature, even if I understand the feedback or situation intellectually

2 = I can occasionally stay open at first, but I close down when things start to feel uncomfortable

3 = I can sometimes stay open and reflective, but when the pressure builds, I revert to familiar patterns

4 = I can usually stay open and reflective, even when challenged, though certain situations still test me

5 = I can almost always stay curious, grounded, and willing to learn, even when the feedback or situation feels uncomfortable

There are no good or bad numbers here. The purpose is to notice where openness comes easily for you, and where it reliably gets harder.

1. HOW DO YOU RELATE TO FEEDBACK THAT DOES NOT MATCH YOUR SELF-IMAGE?

Think about the last piece of feedback that genuinely caught you off guard, not the kind you expected and not the kind you politely dismissed. What happened internally? Did you feel curious, even briefly, about what the feedback might be pointing to, or did your energy go immediately into explaining context, questioning the feedback giver’s intent, or coming up with reasons why the feedback was technically inaccurate?

Your self-assessment score: _____

Coachability doesn’t require you to agree with feedback, but it does require a willingness to stay present long enough to learn something from it. When feedback reliably triggers defensiveness, justification, or a strong need to be seen as right, coaching often feels uncomfortable very quickly. That doesn’t signal failure; it signals that the work will require a level of self-honesty you may or may not be ready to engage.

2. ARE YOU MORE INTERESTED IN EXPLAINING YOUR PATTERNS OR EXPLORING THEM?

Many leaders are excellent narrators of their own behaviour. They can explain why they react the way they do, how their background shaped them, and what pressures they’re under. This level of insight is valuable, and it’s also where progress often stalls.

Your self-assessment score: _____

Coachability shows up when someone’s willing to move beyond explanation into experimentation. Instead of staying with the question of why they’re like this, they become willing to ask what happens if they try something different.

When analysis consistently replaces action, coaching can feel repetitive. When experimentation’s allowed, even imperfectly, coaching tends to gain momentum.

3. HOW DO YOU HANDLE NOT KNOWING?

Executive roles reward decisiveness, expertise, and confidence, while coaching asks for something slightly different. It asks you to sit, at least temporarily, in uncertainty.

Your self-assessment score: _____

The question isn’t whether you enjoy not knowing, but whether you can tolerate it long enough to observe yourself in action. Leaders who are highly coachable aren’t less intelligent or decisive; they’re simply willing to slow their thinking long enough to notice what emerges.

When not knowing feels intolerable, or when ambiguity immediately reads as incompetence, coaching may feel destabilising rather than supportive.

4. DO YOU SEE YOURSELF AS PART OF THE PATTERN, EVEN WHEN OTHERS ARE INVOLVED?

Most leadership challenges involve other people, whether a peer, a boss, a team, or a system that genuinely makes things harder. Coachability doesn’t mean taking responsibility for everything, but it does involve examining how you’re participating in the pattern, even when others are clearly contributing.

Your self-assessment score: _____

It’s also important to name something explicitly here. Even highly coachable leaders can struggle to make progress if the system around them is misaligned. Organisational culture, role clarity, sponsorship, workload, and political dynamics all matter.

Coaching works best when there’s enough room in the system for reflection, experimentation, and learning. If your environment consistently punishes candour, vulnerability, or thoughtful pacing, that doesn’t mean you’re not coachable. It means readiness may depend as much on context as on personal willingness.

When your energy’s consistently focused on how to get others to change, coaching may feel limited. When curiosity extends to what’s within your control, including how you show up under pressure, and when the system allows some space to work with that, coaching has room to work.

5. ARE YOU WILLING TO EXPERIENCE DISCOMFORT IN SERVICE OF GROWTH?

Effective coaching isn’t confrontational, but it isn’t always comfortable. It surfaces habits you rely on, questions assumptions that’ve served you well, and invites you to experiment with behaviours that may feel awkward at first.

Your self-assessment score: _____

Coachable leaders aren’t fearless. They’re willing to feel mildly incompetent for a short period of time while learning something new. When discomfort consistently registers as danger, coaching may feel more threatening than helpful, which makes readiness an important consideration rather than a character judgement.

HOW TO MAKE SENSE OF YOUR RATINGS

Before moving on, pause and look across your ratings as a whole. Don’t add them up yet or average them. This isn’t about a score. What matters most is the pattern.

Notice where your ratings tend to cluster. Are there one or two questions where openness comes more easily for you, and one or two where defensiveness or hesitation reliably shows up? Those areas often point to the exact places where coaching does its most useful work.

If most of your ratings fall in the 4 to 5 range, coaching often feels like a stretch that’s energising rather than destabilising. You’re likely able to stay curious under pressure and to work productively with challenge.

If your ratings tend to cluster around 2 to 3, coaching can still be highly effective, but it may require a bit more time and patience as you build tolerance for uncertainty, feedback, or discomfort.

If several of your ratings are consistently at 1 or 2, that doesn’t mean coaching won’t work. It does suggest that timing, scope, or support structure matter greatly, and that naming this openly with a coach would be essential.

The goal of this assessment isn’t to decide whether you’re good enough for coaching. It’s to help you decide whether you’re ready to engage the work honestly, with support that fits where you are right now.

WHEN COACHING IS PROBABLY NOT THE RIGHT FIT

Coaching may not be the best investment at this moment if you’re primarily seeking advice or expert direction, if validation feels more important than challenge, if you hope a coach will fix a situation without requiring you to change how you operate within it, or if you’re navigating acute crisis, burnout, or mental health concerns that’d be better supported through therapy or medical care.

These aren’t character flaws; they’re signals about timing and fit.

WHEN COACHING TENDS TO WORK EXTREMELY WELL

Coaching’s often most effective when you sense that your current success is built on patterns that may not scale, when you’re willing to examine how your impact differs from your intent, when you want greater internal steadiness alongside external performance, and when you’re open to being surprised by what you discover about yourself.

This is often the point at which leaders move from doing leadership to inhabiting it more fully.

A FINAL REFLECTION BEFORE YOU DECIDE

The most coachable people I work with aren’t the ones who feel ready, confident, or certain. They’re the ones who are willing to tell the truth to themselves about where they are, without dramatizing it or minimising it.

If this article stirred defensiveness, curiosity, recognition, or resistance, that response matters more than whether you liked what you read.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

At this point, you’ve taken an honest look at how you tend to relate to feedback, uncertainty, discomfort, and change.

Rather than treating this as a standalone exercise, I invite you to use what you’ve noticed to clarify your potential coaching topic.

Look back at your ratings and reflections and ask yourself:

• Where did I feel the most friction or defensiveness?

• Which question felt closest to a live issue in my leadership right now?

• What pattern, belief, or habit seems to sit underneath that reaction?

Those answers often point directly to a meaningful coaching focus, not a vague goal, but a real edge you’re currently navigating.

If you’re noticing a clear theme and you’re curious to explore it with support, an exploratory coaching conversation can help you test whether this is the right time, the right scope, and the right kind of coaching for you. There’s no pressure and no obligation, just a chance to think out loud with someone certified to help you explore yourself and your situation more fully.

Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

'SOFT SKILLS' ARE FOR SOFT LEADERS: Skipping the Hardest Part of the Job

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“Soft skills” are for soft leaders. There. I said it.

I know... You probably didn’t expect to hear that from me. When I first typed the title for this article, I thought, “Well, this feels a bit spicy for LinkedIn!” But stay with me.

The phrase “soft skills” has always given me hives. Not because I don't value the things that people usually mean when they say it, or that I think these things are optional or less important than technical skills. It’s because this limiting language massively underplays what relational skills actually bring to and demand from a leader.

And when I refer to “soft leaders”, I mean the ones who intentionally avoid or dismiss the EQ side of their work. By sidestepping, outsourcing, or dismissing them altogether, they're choosing to leave these core leadership skills undeveloped. Which means they’re only doing half their job.

Think about it this way: by the time someone reaches a senior leadership role, technical competence is rarely the hardest part of the job anymore. Most leaders I work with are smart and capable; they know their industry, their numbers, and how to make decisions under pressure. None of that is new territory.

But what many wish they had a playbook for is 'that people stuff', as one senior VP I worked with called it. While I find that phrase rash-inducing, too, it does capture what shows up when the org chart gets taller and the culture stakes get higher.

This is relational leadership work, and it’s not soft, optional, or incidental. It’s the work of leading humans, the ongoing responsibility of building trust, regulating yourself, repairing relationships, and creating the conditions for other people to do great work.

It's things like emotional heavy lifting, relational clean up, continuous self-regulation, and the cognitive load of making consequential decisions while absorbing other people’s anxiety. It's also about holding the dynamic role tension of staying calm, decisive, compassionate, and contained, often all at once, while steadying a room, staying grounded during conflict, and repairing trust after small but consequential cracks appear.

Somehow, we’ve decided to call all of this soft skills, as if they’re a collection of fluffy, nonessential, nice little extras that we can squeeze in after the real work is done. We can't. (Unless, of course, you’ve solved the space-time continuum itself, and if you have, please call me!)

In fact, this relational work doesn't sit alongside leadership. It is the leadership work.

THE PROBLEM WITH THE WORD “SOFT”

The word soft also suggests ease, or something that comes naturally, or implies that if this stuff feels difficult, you must be overthinking it.

That framing does real damage, because the skills required to lead people well are anything but easy. Not because the behaviours themselves require some elusive talent or mysterious art, but because of what they demand in the moment: the ongoing cognitive load, the emotional containment, the internal strain of holding competing expectations while still being watched, interpreted, and responded to in real time.

Some people have strong relational instincts; others don’t. Either way, the work of leadership still requires intention, experimentation, practice, and being able to apply it deliberately, especially when the pressure is on. It takes awareness, repetition, feedback, and a willingness to stay uncomfortable long enough to grow new muscle. If anything, these are strength skills, and while some organisations do track the relational side of leadership behaviours well, many still struggle to name, measure, and invest in them with the same rigour as technical performance. Think of this gap as an opportunity, not an excuse.

WHEN THE ROLE TURNS MORE HUMAN, AND HEAVIER

I hear versions of this in coaching sessions all the time: “I honestly thought this job would be about bigger decisions and clearer priorities. I didn’t realize how much of my day would be taken up by managing emotions, including my own.”

What they’re naming isn’t a gap in competence; it’s a gap in their approach to leadership. As scope increases, complexity follows, and decisions ripple farther. Conversations carry more weight. People pay attention not just to what you decide, but to how you show up while deciding it. The work shifts from doing the job yourself to creating the conditions for other people to do their best work.

GOING SOFT ON THE HARD STUFF IS COSTLY

Let me be very clear here: finding this side of leadership hard doesn’t make someone a weak leader. But avoiding it does.

Leaders who wave off relational work as “that people stuff,” or treat emotional regulation as secondary, are putting themselves and their teams at risk.

Minimizing this work comes at a real cost. Decades of research from organisations like Gallup consistently show that poor management and low trust drive disengagement, burnout, and turnover, all of which carry measurable performance and financial consequences. When leaders avoid or downgrade this part of the role, tension lingers longer, decisions slow down, and issues that could have been addressed early become far more expensive to fix later.

This is where the phrase soft leaders actually belongs, not as a moral judgment, but as a description of what happens when leaders neglect the hardest muscles to build. When authority, intellect, or expertise do all the heavy lifting and the human side stays underdeveloped, trust erodes, performance plateaus, top talent leaves, and the leader’s credibility is damaged. Strong leadership isn’t about being nice. It’s about being able to stay present, steady, and clear when things get messy, which they inevitably do.

Doing this work well means growing your ability to sit in discomfort without rushing to fix. It means giving feedback with clarity and compassion and without shaming. And it means noticing when a relationship needs attention and addressing it before it hardens into something that will need repairs down the road.

The leaders I've seen who do this well invest in developing their people not because it feels warm and fuzzy, but because it works. They understand that performance follows trust, and trust follows consistent, regulated leadership behaviour. There’s nothing soft about that. It’s disciplined, demanding work.

THE RELIEF MANY LEADERS NEED TO HEAR

If you find this relational side of leadership exhausting, demanding, or harder than you expected, nothing has gone wrong. You’re not deficient, and you’re not failing some invisible leadership test. You’ve simply uncovered muscles that this role now requires you to build.

What you do with that discovery can vary. Some lean into the work and start building those muscles deliberately. Some minimize its importance because it feels uncomfortable or inefficient, or they don't know where to start. Others resist it outright, often because it asks for capacities that feel foreign to their innate wiring. Each response says something important about how a leader understands the role, and what they believe leadership is actually for.

Although we're seeing some improvements in corporate leadership training, the fact is that most leaders were never trained on how to grow and use their relational leadership EQ superpowers. Leadership development still tends to prioritize strategy, execution, and frameworks, while expecting leaders to learn the relational work on the fly, often while feeling exposed and underprepared.

Naming this matters. It helps you shift from interpreting the struggle as a personal weakness to simply treating it as your next leadership skill set that deserves intentional investment.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Over the next week, run a simple self-observation experiment. No fixing. No improving. Just noticing.

STEP 1: TRACK WHERE THE ENERGY GOES

At the end of each day, jot down one or two moments where the people-facing demands of the role required real effort. This might be a conversation you delayed, a meeting that drained you more than expected, or a moment where you had to regulate yourself before responding.

STEP 2: NOTICE YOUR DEFAULT MOVE

For each moment you capture, note what you did next. Did you lean in, smooth it over, push it aside, delegate it, or tell yourself it could wait? There’s no right answer here. You’re simply building awareness of your default response.

STEP 3: NAME WHAT WAS AT STAKE

Ask yourself what really mattered in that moment. Trust? Clarity? Alignment? Psychological safety? Future performance? This step helps separate discomfort from consequence.

REFLECTION QUESTIONS (JOURNAL AFTER THE WEEK)

Once you’ve observed several moments, take 15–20 minutes to reflect in writing:

• Which situations consistently required the most self-regulation or emotional effort?

• When I avoided, minimized, or rushed through the relational work, what did those choices cost me, the team, or the work in the short term?

• What do my default responses to relational work suggest about how I currently define leadership?

• What strength am I being asked to build next as a leader?

This isn’t about judging yourself. It’s about making the invisible work of leadership visible, so you can choose how deliberately you want to engage with it going forward.

If you’d like support developing this side of your leadership, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

CONGRATS ON THE PROMOTION: Why Yesterday’s Leadership Tools Don’t Scale

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Congratulations on the big promotion! The kudos are rolling in, your calendar has exploded with meeting invitations, and you’re now attending meetings that used to feel slightly mysterious and intimidating. The scope has expanded, the mandate is bigger, and people are paying closer attention to what you say, and what you don’t.

And then you start to notice that something feels... off.

What used to get you noticed no longer carries the same weight at this level. It feels like familiar instincts are misfiring. The rooms feel different. Even the elevator rides feel awkward, heavier somehow, but you can’t quite put your finger on why.

This is a moment many newly promoted senior leaders don’t expect. Authority has arrived, but the internal shift is still catching up. Wouldn’t it be great if this promotion came with a briefing note explaining how approval works differently now, why growth often feels more like loss for a while, and how you’re expected to grow those elusive leadership characteristics called 'leadership presence' and 'strategic thinking'.

It’s a lot.

Consider this a working version of that briefing note, or at least some useful company for your next elevator ride.

WHEN APPROVAL STOPS WORKING

For most of your career, you look for specific signals to know that you were on the right track: approval, positive feedback, visible appreciation, recognition for being capable or collaborative.

Then you step into senior leadership and the usual signals stop working.

Approval becomes inconsistent, delayed, or occasionally, even nonexistent. Some of the most important decisions you now make will frustrate people you respect. It just comes with the territory. Praise drops off and ambiguity creeps in. Judgment, not agreement, becomes the real currency of the role.

This can be deeply unsettling, especially for leaders who’ve built their identity around being effective and well-regarded. It’s not that those qualities no longer matter. It’s that they can no longer carry the full load of this new role on their own.

At this level, leadership starts asking something different of you. Less reassurance. More internal steadiness. Better self-awareness. It’s not about picking up a new skill set. It’s about letting go of the version of leadership that got you here.

WHY GROWTH FEELS LIKE LOSS FIRST

Almost every leader I coach through this career transition talks about loss before they talk about growth. Loss of certainty. Loss of ease. Loss of the familiar rhythm of being unquestionably right or genuinely appreciated.

Leadership growth at this level starts with subtraction. You're going to need to let go of some behaviours that once kept you safe. You'll surrender approaches that helped you belong. You'll have to loosen your grip on proving your value through responsiveness, polish, or sheer effort.

At times, it can feel like you’re getting worse at your job. You’re not. This discomfort isn’t automatically a warning sign. It’s a normal part of your leadership evolution, as your nervous system, leadership identity, and expectations recalibrate around this larger role. Things feel unstable because they are, and that instability is part of the passage.

I see a familiar theme in my executive coaching work with clients: when leaders hit this phase, they instinctively reach for what’s always worked. That's a normal human reaction, of course. They get a bit tighter. More controlled. More certain on the surface. More performative. Not because they’re doing it wrong, but because those strengths and habits were what made them successful in the past. At this level, though, I see those same moves start to constrain them rather than help.

And this is an important distinction: I'm not saying that those familiar strengths must disappear. They’re still important tools in your leadership toolbelt. The difference is that this role calls for using them more selectively, not by default. As you rely on them a little less, it creates room to build new muscles and capabilities that this level actually demands; things like steadier presence, broader horizon awareness, more expansive judgment, and greater comfort holding complexity. The leaders I see navigate this most effectively are the ones who pause long enough to notice this shift, loosen their grip a little, experiment and adjust. They're also the ones who are willing to extend themselves more self-compassion as they learn their way into the role.

THE COST OF PERFORMING LEADERSHIP

One of the less obvious shifts I notice as leaders move into senior roles is how certainty starts to change shape.

Earlier in a career, sounding sure is often rewarded. It signals competence, keeps things moving, and reassures others that someone has a handle on the work. Those instincts don’t disappear with a promotion, and for good reason: they worked. At more senior levels, though, certainty can start to work against you.

In my coaching conversations, I often hear leaders describe a growing pressure they feel to have a clear point of view at all times, even when the situation is complex, politically charged, or genuinely unresolved. The performance of certainty can keep things tidy on the surface, but it also narrows the conversation. Fewer questions get asked. Fewer assumptions get tested. People start editing themselves in real time.

What’s tricky is that this doesn’t feel like overconfidence. It usually feels like responsibility. Leaders know decisions land with them, so they feel compelled to sound decisive, even when the best thinking is still emerging. Over time, that habit can limit both judgment and range. Certainty becomes something to maintain, rather than something to earn through sensemaking.

The leaders I see navigate this shift most effectively are the ones who notice when certainty has become reflexive rather than useful. They allow themselves to stay open a little longer, to think out loud, to name what isn’t clear yet. That doesn’t weaken their authority. In fact, in most cases, it strengthens it.

INHABITING AUTHORITY WITHOUT ARMOUR

Real authority is less dramatic than most people expect. It shows up as staying present and grounded when the room is tense. It shows up in decisions that carry long-term consequences, even when short-term clarity or approval is unlikely. It shows up when leaders allow others to have reactions without rushing in to manage them.

This kind of authority doesn’t come from the theatre of performing confidence. It comes from self-trust, emotional regulation, and the capacity to stand in ambiguity without rushing to tidy it up.

The leaders who navigate this transition well aren’t the ones who never doubt themselves. They’re the ones who stop using performance as a substitute for presence. They understand that leadership at this level is less about being seen a certain way, and more about being able to hold complexity without armour.

If you’ve recently stepped into a senior role and things feel harder rather than easier, that’s not a personal failure. It’s a predictable passage point. Authority changes the internal job description before it changes anything else.

Growth often arrives disguised as loss, so if you're feeling it, take heart. Depth tends to follow discomfort. Leadership becomes more sustainable, and even, dare I say, more enjoyable, when it stops being something you perform.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Over the next week, notice the moments when you reach for leadership behaviours that used to serve you well, but don’t seem to land the same way at this level.

Pay attention to situations where you reach for certainty too quickly, decisions where approval feels tempting but misaligned, and moments where you hold back to protect your image.

Don’t correct anything yet. Simply observe. Ask yourself what you’re being asked to let go of at this level, what familiar strengths you may be leaning on out of habit rather than choice, and where you might experiment with a steadier, less performative way of leading. Where does certainty feel reflexive rather than useful right now, and what might change if you stayed open a little longer?

If this transition feels heavier than you expected, you’re not alone. This is the terrain where executive coaching does its deepest work.

Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

WHEN LEADERS CARRY TOO MUCH: Why Decisions Keep Landing with You

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Have you ever noticed that moment after you step out of a meeting, when progress seems to pause until you return? Decisions wait, conversations stall, and capable people hesitate. That’s often the first flicker of awareness that decision-making has reorganized itself around you.

I’ve lived this pattern, and I think we’ve all experienced it in some way in our lives. I see it repeatedly in the leaders I coach, too. These are not weak or inexperienced leaders; they are trusted, competent, and deeply conscientious. But how does this pattern form in the first place?

It's typically not through a single misstep, but through a series of small, reasonable choices that accumulate over time: that extra check-in; the decision you tidy up; one risk you absorb so no one else has to; that moment where stepping in feels safer than stepping back. It becomes “the way we do the work,” and over time, that solidifies into your team’s unspoken operating system.

No one sets out with the intention to disempower anyone, or to become an indispensable bottleneck. Yet many leaders become the place where everyone’s fear comes to rest. This isn’t a delegation failure. It’s a signal that fear is moving through your system, and you’ve become the reliable container for it.

The Story We Don’t Realize We’re Telling

Years ago, I worked with a senior leader who prided herself on being the calm port in the storm. In meetings, she leaned forward, listened closely, and asked sharp questions. When something felt unresolved, she stepped in, often with a sentence that began, “Why don’t we just…”

Her team adored her, and they brought her everything, not because they were incapable, but because over time, they’d learned that clarity would certainly come from her if they waited. She would synthesize, decide, and make it feel safer to wait for her input. They weren’t avoiding responsibility; they were responding to a well-worn pattern.

She came to our first executive coaching meeting frustrated. “I know I’m not supposed to own all of this,” she said, “and yet, when I don’t step in, I feel like I'm being negligent.” 

That word matters more than it first appears.

When Identity Overrides Role

Most leaders understand their role intellectually. They can describe it clearly and can point to job descriptions, mandates, and governance structures. But what often runs the show isn’t found in these leadership toolkits, structures, models, and frameworks that are meant to distribute responsibility. What does run the show? Identity. Or more specifically, a certain limiting belief about what leadership is. 

For example, if somewhere along the way you learned that being seen as valuable meant being the helpful person who steps in early, or the one who sees risks before others do, then this pattern makes sense. Some might call it jumping to solution, people-pleasing, over-functioning, or carrying the emotional and decision-making load for others. But whatever label you use, it isn’t a flaw; it’s a protective strategy that once worked beautifully for you. And now that the game has changed, along with the leadership context, this strategy has become a liability.

High-performance leadership asks for something different. It asks you to tolerate the unresolved space; to let others struggle a little and learn along the way, while you try your best to remain present without absorbing or overriding.

To be clear, this isn’t a delegation issue; it’s an identity negotiation. When fear pulls decisions upward, authority and accountability drift out of alignment. Decision-making isn't happening at the right level, so leaders end up holding calls that should sit closer to the work, robbing their employees of the chance to build judgment, confidence, and accountability muscles.

The Signals We Send

Our teams are highly perceptive. They interpret posture, tone, pacing, non-verbals, and micro-expressions, and react to the unspoken trans-contextual information that lives between the cold, hard facts. Then they use it to make sense of their own roles and objectives.

When you lean in too fast, finish sentences, rescue awkward pauses, or offer solutions before the problem has been fully unfolded, you aren’t being inefficient. From your point of view, you may feel that you’re being generous. But this kind of generosity, left unexamined, does more than shape behaviour; it erodes confidence. Over time, people begin to doubt their own judgment, second-guess their instincts, or disengage altogether. Individual initiative gives way to collective caution, and responsibility is deferred upward, not because people don’t care, but because they can no longer trust themselves to get it right.

Over time, the message received is unmistakable: "Bring it to me. I’ve got this."

When Competence Creates Dependence

No one becomes a bottleneck intentionally. You deliver under pressure, respond quickly, and steady things when they wobble. Each time you do, your organization learns something important about you; not just that you are capable, but that they can safely hand things off to you. Over time, decisions, risks, and unresolved issues begin to gravitate in your direction. Eventually, more and more gets routed to you, not because others can't carry it, but because you have consistently shown that you will. What began as reliability slowly turns into dependence.

The cost is not only the additional workload that should be done by those under you. It's also relational. When leaders hold too much, teams stay smaller than they need to be, confidence weakens, initiative dulls, and people look upward rather than outward or inward.

This is not really about being dependable, having a good work ethic, or wanting to be in control for its own sake; those are downstream effects. At its core, the pattern is driven by the need to regulate fear and identity, which is why it persists, even in highly capable teams. 

Here are the typical drivers I see in the leaders I coach. It's common for a few to overlap, and you may recognise more than one in play for you:

1. Self-soothing through intervention
   Jumping in reduces uncertainty and can help settle the nervous system. You feel calmer once you’ve checked, clarified, or corrected. That relief is real and immediate, which makes the behaviour sticky.

2. Fear-based verification
   “I’ll just take a look.” “Let me sanity-check that.” “I want to make sure this won’t blow back on us.” This is less about mistrust of others and more about mistrust of outcomes in a system where consequences feel personal.

3. Identity reinforcement
   Stepping in confirms a deeply held belief that you add value by being sharp, early, and right. Not stepping in can feel like abdication of responsibility, unnecessary exposure, or even downright negligence.

4. Contextual threat amplification
   In many organisations, risk is personalised. Bonuses, reputations, and roles feel precarious, so leaders absorb responsibility because the system rewards those who do. Over time, the costs show up clearly in slower decisions, thinner benches, and leaders who can’t step away without work stalling.

A Different Way to Hold Your Leadership Role

The shift isn’t about doing less, it’s about holding your role differently. It starts with noticing the moment just before you step in: the breath you take; the urge to tidy things up; the familiar sense that it would be easier if you just handled it yourself.

That moment is where the work actually lives. Stay with it. Letting the room feel unfinished. Ask a question instead of offering an answer. Sit back in your chair, literally and metaphorically. This is leadership presence, not leadership absence, even if it may feel counterintuitive at first.

Your Coaching Challenge

For the next five working days, treat this as an observation practice, not a behaviour change exercise. Each day, deliberately observe yourself in action as you move through your workday. Watch for one moment where work, decisions, or emotional weight start to move toward you by default. When it happens, slow the moment down and make note of the following:

• What specifically is being handed to me right now, a decision, a risk, reassurance, or responsibility?

• What belief or fear gets activated in me that makes stepping in feel necessary or safer?

• What signal might I be sending, intentionally or not, that draws this toward me?

• What is the smallest possible way I could stay present here without absorbing or resolving this for them?

• Where does this decision or judgment properly belong in the system, and what would help it exist at a lower level, instead of with me?

Do not intervene or do anything differently yet; just notice. The goal is to build your awareness about how fear, identity, and habit shape your leadership posture in real time.

At the end of the week, reflect on this question: Where have I been acting as the container for other people’s uncertainty, and what is that costing my team, and me?

You are not being asked to let go of care or standards. You are being invited to decide more consciously what is truly yours to carry.

If this pattern feels familiar and you’re curious about how to shift it without losing your sense of care and accountability, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

WHY STRAIGHT TALK FEELS RISKY: The Cost of Safe Language

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A DECISION THAT NEVER ACTUALLY GETS MADE

You walk out of the meeting knowing that you and your colleagues have just spent ninety minutes talking intelligently about something that still hasn’t been decided.

Everyone contributes. The conversation is thoughtful and measured. People ask good questions, they share competing perspectives, and acknowledge differing opinions. There’s nuance, context, and carefully chosen language designed to signal openness and respect.

And yet, when the meeting ends, there’s no clear owner, no visible decision, and no shared understanding of what should move forward versus what remains under consideration. In other words, no one is sure what happens next.

The energy in the room isn’t tense or dysfunctional; it’s polite, competent, and professional. It’s also oddly unresolved, as if the big, important thing is hovering overhead, just out of reach, and unnamed. People leave with their notes and impressions, and often their assumptions begin to diverge the moment they leave the meeting.

Most of us recognize this moment immediately because it appears everywhere, in meetings at work, around family tables, and within long-standing friendships. We care about the people we’re talking with, and we care what they think about us and our perspectives. That’s just human nature, and it shapes how we choose our words. It feels like choosing careful language is a kindness, a way of being respectful and considerate. And sometimes it is.

The problem starts when careful language replaces clear, shared understanding. What feels risky in those moments isn’t actually the wording itself; it’s the exposure of our real opinions and priorities to the judgment of others, especially when relationships, reputation, or future influence feels at stake. When we avoid that exposure and tell ourselves we’re doing it out of care, the real cost shows up as eroding trust, slower decisions, and a lack of clarity that leaves others guessing where we actually stand.

HOW SAFE LANGUAGE BECOMES THE DEFAULT

We don’t end up in careful, polite conversations that never quite land because we’re timid or unclear thinkers. We arrive here through experience, because over time, we've watched words travel. We've seen them land in the moment, then move through emails, meetings, and retellings, and eventually come back sounding slightly different than what we intended. We’ve seen sentences lifted out of context, replayed in hallways, or forwarded with altered meanings, so we learn that showing our real views, preferences, and positions can feel risky, not because words are dangerous, but because being seen clearly can be.

Over time, we begin cushioning what we say. We add qualifiers; we soften edges; we leave doors open, just in case. And we choose language that signals caution rather than decisiveness.

In coaching conversations, I often hear this described as trying to be careful, not wanting to shut anything down, or wanting to leave room for input. Underneath that language is something more human and more uncomfortable to name: a desire to avoid being judged, misunderstood, or seen in a poor light, and a hope that by softening our words we can protect both other people’s feelings and our own credibility.

Safe language becomes a way for us to try to keep the peace, avoid awkward moments or pushback, and give ourselves some room to manoeuvre when things feel complicated. It feels responsible, especially when the stakes are high and the audience is broad. The trouble starts when this way of speaking becomes the default rather than a deliberate choice.

WHEN PROTECTION BECOMES A PROBLEM

At a certain point, the very language designed to protect us from exposure begins to create its own problems.

Decisions slow down. Ownership becomes fuzzy. Teams start doing interpretation work, trying to read between the lines to figure out what their leader actually means.

I write about a standout moment like this in my book Coaching Life, in chapter 19 on authenticity. I remember watching a senior leader in action at a large leadership meeting, and he was spectacular. As the chief executive officer and other executives presented their strategy, he calmly stood up from the audience, took the microphone, and stepped into what felt like a real danger zone to share his view of the progress they had made so far. His assessment was quite different from the prevailing stance in the room.

He didn’t posture or perform. He challenged their thinking respectfully but boldly, naming what wasn’t working and where they needed to do better. I remember sitting there, along with more than two hundred other leaders, completely gobsmacked by what we were witnessing.

Many of us interpreted that moment as bravery, and it was. But what struck me more deeply was how grounded he was in his convictions, and how willing he was to let others see where he actually stood. He spoke truth to power in a high-stakes forum, not to provoke, but because he believed it mattered.

His insights and opinions that day changed the course of several initiatives, and reprioritised the work in ways that helped the organisation regain focus and move forward. Within two years, he was promoted to a senior executive role, and later invited to step in as the acting chief executive officer during a leadership transition. That moment stayed with me because it showed the other side of the story. Straight talk can feel risky, but when it’s rooted in conviction and clarity, it can also build trust, momentum, and credibility in ways that careful language never will.

WHY THIS GETS HARDER WITH SENIORITY

As roles become more senior, straight talk can start to feel riskier, not because people lose confidence or capability, but because being seen clearly carries broader consequences.

At higher levels, there are more stakeholders to consider, more political dynamics to navigate, and more ripple effects that can’t be fully predicted, which means a single, clearly stated view is more likely to be interpreted, repeated, and acted on in ways that extend far beyond the original moment. We’ve all seen an executive make an offhand remark or ask a curious question, only to watch that comment turn into a full-blown project, when all they were really doing was thinking out loud. A single sentence can land very differently depending on who hears it and when.

At more senior levels, it's easy to confuse diplomacy with ambiguity and kindness with vagueness, because we're holding more than our own reputation. We're holding relationships, culture, and momentum along with it.

Straight talk begins to feel like something that might cost too much, because it can ask us to be seen more clearly than we’re quite comfortable with.

What often goes unspoken is that people can feel that hesitation, even when they can’t quite name it. They sense when their leader is circling around their real point of view rather than naming it directly. Over time, that gap erodes confidence, not only in the leader and their willingness to stand behind a clear position, but also in the team's confidence in their own judgment, and in the organization itself.

WHAT STRAIGHT TALK REQUIRES IN PRACTICE

I want to be clear about something here, because straight talk is not an abstract idea for me, nor is it optional in my work. As an executive coach, choosing clarity over comfort is part of the job. Speaking truth to power, naming what I see, and surfacing what others are often thinking but not saying isn't a stretch goal or nice to have; it’s a professional responsibility.

That doesn’t mean it’s effortless, or that there’s no judgment to navigate. It means I’ve learned that avoiding discomfort in the moment usually creates more discomfort later, for clients, teams, and systems that are already carrying too much ambiguity.

What this looks like in practice is a commitment to clarity over comfort. It means naming the real issue rather than circling it, being precise about what I see rather than over‑framing it, and resisting the urge to soften edges in ways that cloud new awareness or slow movement. It means trusting that people are more capable of handling clarity than we sometimes give them credit for, and remembering that avoiding discomfort in the moment usually creates more work later.

Those questions matter because straight talk, when it's done well, isn’t about provocation or bravado. It’s about respecting people enough to trust that they can handle clarity and candour. It’s about being willing to stand behind what you see and say, even when it creates a moment of discomfort. That’s the kind of visibility this work requires, and it’s the standard I hold myself to.

RECLAIMING STRAIGHT TALK

Straight talk isn’t harshness, oversharing, or saying everything that crosses your mind. It’s a willingness to let others see where you actually stand, in language that makes decisions clearer and action easier. It’s language that encourages movement. It reduces the invisible labour of interpretation that teams are so often left to carry. It names decisions without posturing and sets direction without shutting people down. The real work isn’t abandoning care, but noticing when care has turned into avoidance.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Before your next important conversation, pause and ask yourself this:

Where might my careful language be helping, and where might it now be getting in the way of clarity?

Then choose one situation where you will experiment with being a little more visible than usual. Name what you actually think. Be clear about what you are seeing, what you believe and why it matters, or what you think needs to happen next. Notice the urge to soften or over‑explain, and see what happens when you allow yourself to resist it. You don’t need to be blunt or provocative. You just need to be clear enough that others don’t have to guess where you stand.

As you experiment with this, notice three specific things:

1. How the conversation changes, for example, whether it becomes more focused or less tense

2. The impact on decision-making, such as clearer ownership or more explicit next steps

3. How people respond to you, including whether they ask fewer follow-up questions because your position is easier to understand

Once you’ve noticed these patterns, use your observations as data that will guide how and when you choose to be more visible in future conversations, especially in moments where you might normally default to caution.

If you'd like to explore the skill of straight talk in the context of your own leadership evolution, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com

WHAT REALLY HAPPENS IN A COACHING SESSION: A Look Inside the Conversations That Make a Difference

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When people come to talk to me, they’ve usually already done a lot of thinking. They’re often feeling the weight of responsibility, and a surprising amount of self-pressure. They've analyzed decisions, rehearsed and replayed conversations, weighed options, and tried to make sense of what’s in front of them. And despite their best efforts to reason it through, something still feels unresolved.

I always begin where my client is, and with the situation as it is: what happened, what was said, what didn’t land, who reacted and how, what now feels risky, uncomfortable, or unresolved. These details are necessary, and are often the most honest entry point into what’s really happening for them, and how I can help.

During that important first meeting, they’ll often describe their coaching objective as wanting advice or perspective, not because they don’t trust themselves, but because they’re looking for a way through a situation that feels risky, stubborn, or unresolved. In environments that reward decisiveness and momentum, it’s natural to want an efficient and responsible way to problem-solve, even when the terrain is complex or emotionally charged.

But as our conversation unfolds, something else starts to come into view. Alongside the situation itself, they begin to notice their interpretation of what’s happening, the assumptions they’re making, the habits of thought they return to, and the blind spots that may be shaping their reactions. Over time, many realize that changing other people, or waiting for the context to improve, isn’t what coaching is about, and wouldn’t actually help them be more effective or successful in what they’re trying to navigate.

During these early conversations, something subtle but remarkable takes place: the conversation gradually shifts without either of us forcing it. People begin to hear themselves differently. They notice where a particular frustration keeps reappearing, or how strongly they react to a certain powerful question. Sometimes they pause and say, almost to themselves, “Wow, I’ve never thought about it that way before,” or “I’ve been feeling this for so long, but I haven't been able to put it into words until now.”

What’s happening in those moments isn’t accidental. It’s the result of two unique perspectives coming together in service of the client. For the coach's perspective, it means careful listening (to what's being said, and what isn't), well-timed questions intended to create new insight, and attention to patterns the client may not yet be aware of. It also means creating enough room for them to think out loud and examine their patterns without feeling judged or rushed toward a solution. And from the client's perspective, it’s an opportunity to see themselves in the system more clearly, and to notice how their own wiring, assumptions, and patterns are shaping what’s possible. In that kind of space, behaviour, motivation, and context start to connect in ways that are almost impossible to access on their own, especially during a busy workday.

What often comes into focus next isn’t a neat answer, but a clearer sense of orientation. With a coach as a thinking partner, people gain new perspectives and start to see what matters most to them, what they’ve been protecting, and where they may have been holding back. That clarity is very practical. It shapes how they approach the situation, what they’re prepared to challenge, and what they’re willing to let go of.

I see this play out in small, ordinary moments all the time. A client will be describing a familiar frustration they have with a colleague or stakeholder, and I ask them what they notice about how that person is wired, what they tend to value first, or what reliably gets their attention. There’s often a pause, sometimes a laugh, and then something like, “Oh. I’ve been coming at them from my own perspective and preferences. Now I see why that wasn’t landing.” Nothing has been solved yet, but the person is suddenly inside the situation rather than just reacting to it.

Other times, someone has been circling an issue for a while, speaking carefully and professionally, sometimes even guardedly, when a word or phrase I offer really lands for them. I’ll offer it more as a mirror than a diagnosis or conclusion, and they’ll often stop mid-sentence for a long pause, followed by, “Yes! That’s it. That's how I feel!” In that moment, the issue moves from being a heavy, internal tangle to something clearer and more usable; something they can actually engage with rather than silently absorb.

And sometimes, the shift is even simpler. Some people arrive determined to make the right decision and are frustrated that they haven't been able to until now. As they talk through the trade-offs, the risks, and what matters most to them, I've seen many people stop mid-sentence and say, “I think I already know what I should do.” What they needed wasn’t a better answer, but enough space to trust the one that was already there, just out of sight.

Through the coaching process, people often come to realize that what they needed wasn’t direction, but permission. Permission to acknowledge doubt without immediately correcting it. Permission to name a value conflict they’ve been trying to smooth over. Permission to admit that something which looks sensible on paper doesn’t actually sit well with them in practice. Permission to experiment. Permission to do something outside of their comfort zone.

Language plays a central role here. Many people arrive with a strong sense that something isn’t right, but without the words to describe it clearly. When they find language for that experience, their relationship to it changes. It becomes something they can work with, rather than something that weighs on them in the background. Coaching doesn’t solve the puzzle for someone; it helps them see the shape of it more clearly.

My role as coach in these conversations isn’t to improve the question or guide someone toward a better answer. I stay with the question they bring. I listen for what seems to matter, and I help them stay with their own thinking long enough to understand it more fully. When insight emerges, it belongs to them.

Sometimes that insight leads directly to a next step. Sometimes it reframes the situation enough that the path forward looks different. Sometimes it simply provides steadier footing before any action is taken. When advice or perspective becomes useful in later coaching conversations, it lands because it’s connected to the person’s own understanding, not because it replaces it.

Near the end of a coaching session, people will often comment that they feel clearer or more settled, even though nothing external has changed. Their role may still be demanding. The decision they need to make may still be complex. That difficult relationship may still require care. What’s shifted is how they’re carrying it, and that shift alone can make the next step feel more manageable.

They leave with a stronger sense of their own judgment and a clearer internal reference point. That doesn’t come from being told what they need or should do. It comes from having time to think in a specific way that connects their experience with their values and their choices.

Many leaders and professionals are surrounded by input, opinions, data, and constant expectations, yet they are still expected to decide, act, and lead with confidence. Over time, this pressure can make it hard to see clearly what is actually asking for attention, or what part of the situation is truly theirs to own and work with. At its best, coaching helps people make sense of complex situations, work through difficult emotions without being overwhelmed by them, and arrive at decisions they can stand behind. That clarity shows up in very practical ways, in the choices they make, the conversations they have, and the steadiness they bring to moments of uncertainty.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Set aside 15 minutes of uninterrupted time to reflect or write about what is currently stretching, frustrating, or unsettling you in your leadership. Where you feel least at ease, most unsure, or preoccupied? How would you like to think, feel, and behave differently in this situation if you could? This reflection forms the foundation of your coaching topic.

Next, write down what you want to change in those situations, beginning with "I'd like to be more able to...". Here are some actual client examples of powerful coaching topics to use as inspiration:

I'd like to be more able to:

• communicate clearly and calmly under pressure

• enhance my influencing skills and leadership presence

• step into my new role and lead my former peers with confidence

• influence with steadiness and credibility when the stakes are high

• manage my emotional interior when in conflict with others

• build a strong relationship with my leader based on trust and clear expectations

• balance my career strategy with my personal resilience

• authentically and confidently embrace my full leadership role

• make powerful leadership choices aligned with strategic business objectives

When you can write your coaching topic in one clear sentence, you’ve usually put your finger on the real work, the place where your leadership is being tested, and where focused coaching can make the greatest difference.

If you’re curious about what this kind of conversation could offer you, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

FREEDOM ISN'T WHAT I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE: A Surprising Truth at This Stage of My Career

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Freedom has been a recurring theme in my life, long before I named it as my 2026 guiding word for the coming year. It’s felt less like something I was living, and more like something I was moving toward, an ideal future state that existed somewhere up the road, just slightly out of reach. I see it most clearly in my ongoing negotiation with that other slippery concept: time. Freedom and time are uneasy dance partners. When time feels compressed, freedom tends to shrink. When time is reclaimed, even in small ways, freedom expands.

Sometimes this shows up in the practical ways I try to keep my days from becoming overscheduled, through small, deliberate acts of resistance, and by blocking space in my calendar that’s just for me. I notice how quickly my energy refills when I resist the pull to say yes simply because I can, and give myself space for creativity.

Other times, the tension shows up less neatly. In moments when I technically have control over my schedule, but still feel rushed or obligated in some way, when the calendar is lighter, yet my mind is crowded, or when I realise that freedom isn’t just about having time to and for myself, but about how I inhabit that time.

Now, you and I may have different ideas about what freedom actually means. For me, freedom doesn’t mean escape; it’s an insistence on unrestrained breathing room. I can usually identify it by asking a question I’ve learned to keep close to my heart: what actually needs my attention, and what can be left alone? Freedom is my word for the year because this theme is still a work in progress, something I practise imperfectly in small, ordinary moments rather than claim as a finished state.

For years, I thought freedom would feel louder. More dramatic. Like a big reveal or bold pivot that would signal I’d finally figured things out. What I didn’t expect was how understated freedom often is, or how ordinary it looks from the outside, and how deeply relieved I feel on the inside when I’m in it.

Freedom is my word this year, not the aspirational kind you tape to a vision board with good intentions, but the lived, slightly messy, sometimes uncomfortable kind that shows up daily in real decisions, real boundaries, and real letting go. For me, this isn’t about tuning out or stepping back. It’s about choosing more deliberately what I step into, how I show up when I’m there, and what I intentionally choose not to carry.

WHEN FREEDOM MEANT PROVING SOMETHING

Earlier in my career, freedom meant proving something. More opportunity. More visibility. More momentum. Saying yes felt like oxygen. Saying no felt risky, even reckless.

Many leaders I work with are still living inside this version of freedom. It sounds like choice, but it feels like pressure. You’re technically free to choose yet emotionally tethered to expectations you didn’t consciously agree to, including your own.

The unspoken rule operates beneath our awareness: if you can do something well, you probably should. And if people want you, you should want that too. It’s rarely questioned, yet it trains us to override our own well-being in favour of usefulness, approval, and momentum.

That version of freedom is exhausting.

The hardest expectations to loosen aren’t external; they’re the ones that sound like common sense. “You should be further along by now.” “You should want more.” “You should capitalize on every opportunity.” “You shouldn’t waste your experience.” These are polite, well-intentioned expectations, often reinforced by praise. Letting go of them can feel oddly disloyal, as if you’re turning your back on the version of yourself who worked so hard to get here.

What I’m learning is that freedom sometimes looks like honouring that earlier version of myself, without continuing to let her drive the bus. She got me here, and I respect what it took to do that, but she doesn’t get to decide what actually deserves my energy now.

FREEDOM AS DISCERNMENT, NOT DISENGAGEMENT

There’s a fear that lurks below the waterline in most of us, and if you’re a seasoned leader, you’ll likely recognise it instantly. It sounds like this: “If I loosen my grip, will I lose relevance?” And this: “If I stop striving so hard, will I be left behind or disappear altogether?”

Freedom, at least the kind that lasts, isn’t about disengaging from meaningful work. It’s about engaging with it differently.

Discernment asks different questions than ambition does. Where ambition asks, “Can I do this?”, discernment pauses to ask, “Do I want to?” Ambition’s “Will this look good?” becomes, “Will this feel aligned six months from now?” And when ambition wonders, “Is this expected of me?”, discernment asks a more consequential question: “Is this mine to carry?”

This is where freedom gets practical. It shows up in calendars that breathe a little more, in work that feels chosen rather than endured, and in fewer performative yeses and more grounded nos that don’t require a long explanation.

WHAT FREEDOM LOOKS LIKE NOW

Freedom at this stage of my life and career isn’t something I perform. It’s felt internally first in my body, long before it ever shows up externally, in my visible choices. That distinction matters, especially for those of us who’ve spent years chasing freedom outside ourselves, as if external signals like more flexibility, more autonomy, better opportunities, or more control would arrive once the conditions were just right. What I’ve learned is that freedom doesn’t work that way. When it’s pursued solely as an external state, it remains elusive.

Freedom is an inside job first. It begins with how I relate to my time, my energy, and my sense of enough, long before it shows up in my calendar or my work. From there, it becomes visible. It shows up when I stop rushing to fill silence with answers, when I allow an idea to mature instead of rushing off with it prematurely, when I choose depth over reach, even when reach is tempting, and when I trust my own rhythm more than the algorithm. It also shows up when I no longer contort myself to be legible to everyone, and instead focus on being genuine with the right people. None of this is flashy, but it’s deeply consequential, because it changes how I experience my work and my life from the inside out.

If there’s any permission embedded here, it’s this: you’re allowed to want less noise, to refine rather than expand, and to redefine success in ways that make sense for your nervous system, not just your résumé. This isn’t about opting out or lowering the bar; it’s about opting in with clearer eyes.

Freedom, as I’m living it now, isn’t a finish line or an identity to perform. It’s a posture I return to, one that says I’m still engaged, still curious, still contributing, and no longer willing to confuse pressure with purpose. And that shift changes everything.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Awareness is often the first real experience of freedom: noticing where choice becomes available again, before anything external has changed. 

Over the next week, pay attention to moments where you feel a subtle sense of pressure rather than a clear sense of choice. This often shows up as a tightness in your body, a low-level urgency, a sense of obligation, or a reflexive yes before you’ve fully considered the scope of what’s being asked. Notice where you’re responding automatically, out of habit, expectation, or a desire to be useful, rather than from intention.

Choose one commitment, conversation, or expectation that catches your attention. Don’t change it yet; simply pause and notice it. Then spend a few minutes reflecting on these questions:

1. What am I afraid might happen if I don’t say yes here?

2. Which part of me is responding right now: habit, ambition, loyalty, fear, or discernment?

3. If I were deciding in service of my freedom, rather than from a place of pressure, what would I choose?

You don’t need to act on your answers right away. This is not about fixing or optimizing. It’s about building awareness. And greater awareness is often where our experience of freedom begins.

Freedom doesn’t require a grand exit. Sometimes it begins with a truer, more grounded yes.

Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

I THOUGHT I HAD TO HAVE THE ANSWERS: The Surprising Cost of Expecting Yourself to Know It All

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Much earlier in my career, when I was leading my first team, I believed that being credible meant being prepared, composed, and always a step ahead of everyone in the room. If someone asked a hard question, I felt an unrelenting pressure to respond quickly with the right answer, even when my thinking was still forming. I never named that pressure. Hell, most of the time I wasn’t even aware it was driving me around like a bumper car. It just felt like part of the job. So, I just worked harder, sped myself up, and carried it all on my back.

It took me longer than I care to admit to see how exhausted that belief was making me. It wasn’t because the work itself was hard, it was because of what I thought leadership required of me.

I see this pattern often in the leaders I work with. These are seasoned, senior leaders who feel an unspoken obligation to be the one who knows; the one who reassures; the one who steadies everyone else. From the outside, it presents as confidence. From the inside, though, it can feel like a constant buzzing in your brain that never fully stops.

What surprised me was this. The exhaustion wasn’t coming from the complexity I was living in. It came from the idea that I was supposed to have everything already figured out.

I absorbed this idea about leadership early on, that it meant having answers, that uncertainty was risky, and that pausing too long might reveal something I should have sorted by now. So we compensate, we explain, and we offer smart perspectives that are technically solid but not always fully landed, frankly.

And people can feel the difference, even if they can’t quite name what’s off.

I learned this the hard way when I became a new manager, leading a team for the first time, and trying to be everything to everyone. I was the one filling every silence, answering every question, smoothing every edge. If there was uncertainty in the room, I absorbed it and tried to resolve it on the spot. On the surface, I suppose it may have looked like leadership to some. But in my body, it made me feel wobbly and weak, because it felt like I was carrying the weight of everyone's success and career aspirations on my back. That was the signal that finally clicked for me. Leadership was never meant to be a one-person load-bearing exercise where you protect everyone from uncertainty, so they don’t have to navigate it. 

And I was actually taking something away from my employees by being the one with all the answers: their chance to think it through for themselves, to sit in the discomfort of uncertainty, and to build their judgement and problem-solving chops in real time.

I've always believed that a leader's job is to create more leaders, not more followers. And yet there I was, unintentionally training others to hand their uncertainty over to me. I had become a pressure valve for the system.

When a leader consistently absorbs uncertainty like that, it shapes behaviour. People learn, without anyone ever saying it out loud, that you will hold the complexity, make the call, and carry the consequences. Over time, that chips away at your employees' autonomy, decision-making confidence, and a real sense of ownership. Capable, thoughtful people start to wait and seek permission, instead of thinking for themselves. That dynamic was unsustainable, not just for me, but for the team.

In fact, the leaders people trust the most are not the ones who respond the fastest. Research on psychological safety, led by Amy Edmondson at Harvard Business School, consistently shows that leaders who slow the pace, tolerate uncertainty, and invite thinking build higher levels of trust and engagement. They’re the ones who are willing to stay with a question for a moment. They can say, “I’m still thinking about that,” without apologizing or feeling the pressure to fill the white space, and without making anyone else wrong for not knowing, either.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I would never ask you to walk into important conversations unprepared. This isn’t about being vague or winging it; it’s about knowledge versus judgment. There's a difference between knowing things and wanting others to see that you know the answers, versus exercising your judgment and making enough space for others to think, wrestle, and arrive at their own conclusions. Knowledge can sound confident and polished. Judgement shows up as steadiness and gives people enough orientation so that they can build the muscles to think for themselves. The importance of autonomy shouldn't be overlooked; it's one of the three most important human needs, and a huge factor in how we stay motivated and engaged at work.

While it's just a fact that I know lots of things, it's also true that I’m still learning plenty more. What has changed is my relationship to proving what I know. My role now feels less about projecting certainty and more about staying curious, asking powerful questions, and creating conditions where stronger thinking can happen, including my own.

That shift gave me back more energy than I expected, and it made my leadership feel sustainable in a way it never had before. And now, after all these years working with executives, senior leaders, and their teams, I can spot this pattern quickly, not because I have it all figured out, but because I’ve lived it from the inside and see how often it shows up in people who care deeply about doing a good job.

That expectation is powerful, and it’s rarely questioned. If you’re feeling the pressure to have all the answers in your leadership role, the following coaching challenge is designed to help you notice it, understand what’s driving it, and decide what you want to do differently.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

This week, imagine that you are sitting on your own shoulder, observing yourself in action as you go through your days (I always picture the alien in Men in Black, with the tiny second head that pops out from behind his regular head). You are looking for moments where you notice the pressure to have the answers showing up. You may notice a tension in your body; a shift in your tone or behaviour. When you notice it, pause and reflect on these questions (take them one at a time):

1. What do you notice about what triggers the pressure to have the answers?

2. Where does the pressure typically show up in your body?

3. What might be underneath, driving that pressure? (You might see themes emerge, like a fear of letting someone down, or of looking unprepared, or it may be something else entirely.)

4. When you step in to carry that pressure for others, what might you be taking away from them, particularly related to their autonomy, confidence, or opportunity to think things through for themselves?

If this reflection resonates and you want support exploring how to lead with more ease and grounded judgment, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

GRACE UNDER PRESSURE: Finding Steady Ground at Year-End

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The holidays are rarely peaceful. On the work front, year-end means deadlines, performance reviews, and budget crunches. On the home front, it’s travel plans, family gatherings, and a growing list of to-dos, all wrapped in the expectation to somehow radiate good cheer through it all. It's a perfect storm under the glittering lights of December: professional pressure colliding with personal performance anxiety.

It’s no wonder that even the most grounded among us feel stretched thin. In my coaching practice, I see clients this time of year trying to power through exhaustion, stress, and overwhelm by sheer willpower, convinced that the finish line is just around the corner. But that last-ditch sprint through the holidays may just have you crawling into January depleted, not renewed.

WHEN EVERYTHING PEAKS AT ONCE
This end-of-year frenzy doesn’t just drain our calendars; it drains our cognitive reserves. Decision fatigue sets in after a long stretch of intense thinking, leaving us more reactive, less patient, and more likely to default to old habits. By December, our mental bandwidth is often running on fumes, and our nervous systems are signaling for recovery we rarely allow.

The real challenge isn’t simply managing time; it’s managing energy. Every deadline, conversation, and expectation draws from the same well. Without deliberate restoration, we end up spending emotional energy faster than we can replenish it.

So instead of pushing harder, this is the moment to become more strategic about recovery. Micro-breaks between meetings, shorter decision windows, deliberately slower pacing, and brief moments of mindful breathing actually protect your executive function. At home, try applying the same principles: fewer commitments, more intentional rest, and gatherings that nourish instead of deplete.

This season can be a quiet teacher if you let it: what if the pressure itself is a signal to recalibrate, rather than to double down?

WHAT “GRACE UNDER PRESSURE” ACTUALLY LOOKS LIKE
The phrase 'grace under pressure' often brings to mind the image of staying calm no matter what, maintaining a flawless exterior while the world spins around you. In truth, grace under pressure is not about perfection or polished composure; it’s about staying connected to yourself while everything else demands more of you. It’s about self-awareness in motion, the subtle shift that allows you to pause, breathe, and respond with intention rather than reaction. That moment of mindful presence is what keeps grace genuine instead of performative.

Here’s what it can look like in real life:

A client of mine in the energy sector now blocks “Transition Time” between her last meeting and her evening commute. These "TT" time blocks are sacred to her, and her admin staff knows they are off-limits to rescheduling. It's a ritual that allows her to turn off her laptop, take three minutes to breathe, and visualize leaving her workday behind. “It sounds trivial,” she said, “but it’s the difference between arriving home as the 'Restless Hurricane' (one of her coaching metaphors) or as myself.”

Another client at a financial firm now labels December as a “compassion month.” When tension peaks, she deliberately softens her tone and reminds herself that everyone, including her boss, is probably overtired. By giving others the benefit of the doubt, she releases her grip on judgment and creates space for understanding instead of escalation. The outcome? Fewer conflicts and a noticeable shift in atmosphere: more patience for (and from) others, more meaningful conversations, and a genuine sense of connection on the team.

And one more: a client who used to equate December success with overachievement now uses a single word, “HOMIE”, which stands for 'how much is enough' to help her decide what gets done and what gets dropped. She says it’s the most freeing leadership practice she’s ever tried. So simple, and so effective!

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE: A MORE HUMAN APPROACH TO YEAR-END CLARITY
This season asks us to do the opposite of what our calendars demand. Instead of accelerating, take stock, and recalibrate. Before the year closes, ask yourself: What actually needs my full attention, and what just feels urgent because of the date on the calendar? Who needs my empathy and attention more than my efficiency and urgent pressure right now? Where am I running on habit instead of intention?

Each day during this busy holiday period, pick one moment to practice grace under pressure with intention:

• Notice when tension rises or impatience surfaces, like when your inbox pings again at 6 p.m., or when someone’s bad mood collides with yours.

• In that moment, pause, take a slow breath to the bottom of your lungs, and turn your attention inward.

• Notice your body: Is your jaw tight? Are your shoulders tense? What is your breath doing?

• Ask yourself: “What would grace under pressure feel like right now?” Allow the answer to shape your next action, even if that action is simply stillness.

After each practice, take two minutes to reflect on what you noticed:

• What emotion was most strongly present, and what might be underneath it?

• What shifted in me when I paused?

• What will I do differently next time?

Capture a few notes or simply sit with your awareness. Over time, these daily pauses will start to build a steady rhythm of grace, teaching you how presence can be both your anchor and your reset button.

You may find that grace isn’t something you have to earn or schedule. It’s something you create by choosing presence in the middle of pressure.

Wishing you a season of calm energy, smooth edges, and kind hearts.

Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

WHAT'S YOUR 2026 WORD OF THE YEAR? Look Back to Leap Forward

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Another year-end, another full calendar, and a to-do list that somehow multiplied overnight. Between closing out projects, prepping for 2026 strategy sessions, and pretending you still enjoy Mariah Carey in November, it’s easy to barrel into the new year without pausing to think about what this one actually meant.

Reflection isn’t a luxury. It’s a leadership practice that sharpens awareness, strengthens perspective, and gives shape to what comes next. A proper year-end review connects the dots between what happened, why it mattered, and how you want to grow from it.

In my work with senior leaders, I’ve noticed a pattern: the most grounded, effective leaders are the ones who create space to look back before they leap forward. They don’t just plan the next year; they design it, informed by what they’ve learned.

So before the year fully slips away, take a breath, clear a bit of space, and use these three steps to bring focus, insight, and intention to the year ahead, with this updated version of one of last year’s most-read articles.

STEP 1: REFLECT ON YOUR YEAR

Set the stage for deep reflection: Find a quiet space where you won’t be interrupted. Bring something to capture your thoughts: a journal, tablet, or voice recorder. Give yourself at least an hour. No multitasking.

Think of your year as a chapter in your leadership story. In this first step, reflect on the themes that defined it, the standout moments, and what this chapter reveals about the way you lead.

Now, broaden your reflection by answering the questions in each of these four lenses:

1. What worked? Where did you feel most in alignment, energized, creative, effective, or proud? What conditions made that possible? A senior VP client once discovered that her best results came not from working harder, but from delegating smarter. Her success story inspired a new talent-development framework for her division.

2. What didn’t? This isn’t about blame; it’s about pattern recognition. What created friction? Which choices drained you or your team? Another client noticed that every January, he overloaded himself with projects that didn’t advance his long-term goals. His takeaway: “If it isn’t essential to my strategy, it’s a no.”

3. What surprised you? Growth often hides in the unexpected. What moments tested or stretched you? What strengths surfaced under pressure that you hadn’t recognized before? One of my clients told me she was surprised by how well her team handled a crisis while she was away on vacation. It revealed the depth of trust she’d built and helped her see she didn’t need to control every detail for things to run smoothly.

4. What will you leave behind? Progress requires subtraction as much as addition. What beliefs, habits, or commitments no longer serve you? What is ready to be retired so something better can take its place? A few years ago, I realized I was hanging on to an old assumption that productivity equaled value. Letting go of that mindset opened the door to more creative, higher-impact work and helped me redefine what progress really looks like.

STEP 2: CHOOSE YOUR WORD OF THE YEAR

After sifting through your reflections, distill what matters most into a single word: your North Star for the year ahead.

This word isn’t a goal. It’s a compass that anchors your decisions, priorities, and mindset when life gets noisy.

How to find it: Notice recurring themes in your reflection. Ask what feeling, value, or intention you want to embody next year. Pick a word that feels alive, not trendy but meaningful.

For one CFO client, balancing an intense workload with parenting, the word was Presence. It reminded her to show up fully wherever she was, whether in the boardroom or at the dinner table. Another client leading a manufacturing firm chose Innovate, inspired by a bold pilot that exceeded expectations and revealed the creative depth of his team.

Once you’ve chosen your word, make it visible. Write it on the first page of your planner, set it as your phone wallpaper, or put it somewhere you’ll see every day.

Need inspiration? Here’s a curated list of words leaders often choose, each carrying its own focus and significance:

Abundance: seeing opportunity rather than scarcity. Alignment: bringing goals, actions, and values into harmony. Authenticity: leading as your truest self. Balance: finding your rhythm between work and life. Bravery: taking intelligent risks and making bold calls. Clarity: communicating and deciding with precision. Collaboration: creating shared success instead of silos. Compassion: leading with humanity and understanding. Confidence: backing your judgment and your voice. Connection: building trust and relationships that matter. Creativity: thinking differently and experimenting often. Curiosity: staying open, asking questions, and learning relentlessly. Discipline: doing what matters even when it’s hard. Focus: protecting your attention from distraction. Freedom: simplifying commitments to create more space. Generosity: giving time, knowledge, or mentorship freely. Gratitude: finding joy and recognition in everyday wins. Growth: stretching beyond comfort zones. Impact: contributing something meaningful and lasting. Integrity: doing what’s right, not what’s easy. Joy: rediscovering lightness and energy in your work. Learning: staying a student of your own leadership. Presence: being fully engaged in every conversation. Resilience: staying steady through turbulence. Simplicity: cutting through clutter to what truly matters. Trust: building confidence in yourself and others. Vision: leading toward something bigger than today.

STEP 3: TURN INSIGHT INTO ACTION

Reflection without movement is just rumination. Here’s how to turn insight into traction:

1. Turn lessons into systems. If you noticed overcommitment, build a “decision filter.” One of my clients now asks herself before saying yes: Will this move me closer to or further from my vision?

2. Embed your word into habits. If your word is Balance, maybe it means no emails after 8 p.m. or saying yes only to projects that energize, not deplete. Whatever your word, find a way to live it through daily choices.

3. Share it. Accountability creates traction. Share your word with a colleague, coach, or your team. I once worked with a leader who revealed her word, Transparency, to her staff and invited them to hold her to it. That act alone shifted her team’s communication culture.

WHY THIS MATTERS

Leadership isn’t only about achieving outcomes. It’s also about evolving. A year-end review helps you see the through-lines in your growth: the moments when your instincts were right, when you adapted, and when you learned something worth carrying forward.

When you understand where you’ve been, you lead yourself and others with greater clarity and conviction.

Before the December noise takes over, take that pause. Reflect. Choose your next chapter with intention.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Book a one-hour meeting with yourself. Use the reflection questions above, choose your Word of the Year, and then identify one concrete shift you’ll make in January that aligns with it. Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

And to all of you who’ve been reading my articles this year: thank you for being part of this growing community of leaders who reflect deeply, speak honestly, and stay courageous in their commitment to evolving with integrity. Thank you for your continued engagement, inspiration, and thoughtful messages that keep these conversations alive. Wishing you a peaceful holiday season, time to recharge, and a New Year filled with clarity, connection, and courage.

BEYOND THE BONUS: Why Most Year-End Recognition Programs Miss the Mark

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Money might buy effort, but it doesn’t buy connection. We’ve built entire corporate traditions around saying “thank you” with money, especially this time of year. It’s easy, measurable, but no one ever said, “Wow, that Starbucks gift card changed my life!” The brain forgets gift cards; what it remembers are the moments between humans, especially if those moments are charged with emotion and authenticity. Meaningful recognition is personal and precise: it honours each person’s unique wiring, lands in the way they most like to be seen, and tells the story of how their contribution truly mattered.

THE GIFT CARD PROBLEM

Handing someone a $100 gift card feels like a tidy solution: it's quick, fair, and measurable. But it is not memorable.

Neuroscientific research shows that monetary rewards can trigger a short-term dopamine spike, but the effect fades quickly once the novelty wears off. Recognition that connects emotionally, however, activates the brain’s social reward pathways and releases hormones associated with trust and connection. Once the moment of appreciation passes without personal meaning attached, the brain simply files it away as routine. That is why the gift card gets spent and forgotten (or sometimes just forgotten altogether).

Leaders who rely solely on financial gestures miss the opportunity to reinforce culture, values, and shared purpose.

THE PSYCHOLOGY OF APPRECIATION

According to Harvard Business Review (2022) in "The Power of Recognition: Why Appreciation Matters More Than Ever," by Josh Bersin and Jennifer Goler, people who regularly receive meaningful, personal recognition are more than twice as likely to describe themselves as thriving at work. When we feel appreciated by someone we respect, our brains associate that interaction with belonging and safety. It signals, “You matter here.”

Research from the University of North Carolina, led by Sara Algoe and her colleagues (Algoe, Fredrickson, and Gable, 2013, Frontiers in Psychology), found that expressions of gratitude stimulate the brain’s medial prefrontal cortex, which governs empathy and moral reasoning. Their studies show that gratitude strengthens relational bonds, promotes prosocial behaviour, and reinforces a shared sense of humanity. When recognition is genuine and specific, both the giver and receiver experience a measurable boost in emotional connection and trust.

This is what makes appreciation such a powerful leadership tool: it strengthens the relational tissue of your organization, one moment at a time.

THE POWER OF SPECIFICITY

Generic praise such as “Great work this quarter” barely registers. Our brains are wired to notice detail, context, and meaning. Specificity gives recognition its staying power because it anchors the compliment in real evidence.

Instead of saying, “Thanks for your hard work,” try: “Your calm and steady leadership during that product launch helped the team stay focused and confident under pressure. I noticed how the team really watches you for cues, so thank you for being a role model for how to stay grounded when the ground is shifting.” That precision tells the recipient what mattered and why it mattered. It also teaches them what to repeat.

To make recognition truly land, it must also fit the person’s wiring. Some people feel seen through words; others through visible trust, responsibility, or autonomy. An introverted analyst might appreciate a quiet one-to-one thank you, while an extroverted salesperson might thrive on a public shout out at the next team meeting.

As a leader, think about each person’s preferences, communication style, and motivation triggers:

• Drivers and fast thinkers often respond best to recognition that is linked to results and impact: “Your strategic clarity helped us close that deal ahead of schedule.”

• Relational and harmony-oriented types value appreciation that focuses on collaboration and connection: “Your empathy and focus on teamwork really helped this new team gel and connect with each other.”

• Analytical personalities feel validated by recognition that is tied to competence and accuracy: “Your attention to detail in the design phase saved us eight hours of rework and prevented a major error from reaching the client.”

• Visionary innovators are motivated by purpose and growth: “Your creative improvement ideas completely reframed how we think about this challenge, and we now have a new perspective on what is possible.”

• Grounded stabilizers appreciate recognition that acknowledges dependability, consistency, and care: “Your reliability and calm presence helped keep everyone steady through a demanding season.”

Understanding these nuances ensures your appreciation is heard in the language that resonates most deeply with them.

WHEN RECOGNITION GETS PERSONAL

One VP client I worked with wrote a handwritten note to every one of his 40+ employees before the holidays. Each card mentioned one specific thing that person had done to make a difference to the business, the team, or the culture. It took him two weeks, some purposeful reflection about each person, and a commitment to being authentic and intentional. Many employees kept those notes on their desks months later. The message they remembered was simple: “You matter here.”

PITFALLS OF FORCED GRATITUDE

Mass emails thanking “all our rockstars” rarely land well. They often feel obligatory rather than authentic. Forced gratitude can backfire, creating cynicism rather than appreciation. Real recognition names the specific effort, describes the impact, and acknowledges the human quality that made it possible. It tells a story about contribution rather than issuing a generic compliment.

Authenticity matters more than volume. The goal is not to praise everyone equally; it is to connect meaningfully with each person in a way that reflects who they are and what they value.

REFRAMING RECOGNITION: LEADERS AS STORYTELLERS

True recognition goes beyond thank yous. It is storytelling. Great leaders narrate contribution instead of counting output. They help employees see how their actions shape the larger story of the organization. When you tell the story of how someone’s effort led to a client success, a culture shift, or a team breakthrough, you translate performance into purpose.

Meaningful recognition sounds like this:

• “Because you challenged that assumption in the meeting, we ended up opening up new opportunities for growth we wouldn't have explored otherwise.”

• “You probably didn’t realize it at the time, but the way you handled that difficult customer modelled what great customer support looks like and set the tone for the whole team.”

Recognition that tells a story has the power to shape identity. People begin to see themselves as contributors to something bigger than their job description.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Before the year ends, take time to make your recognition intentional.

1. Reflect: Think about the people whose work made a genuine difference this year. What did they contribute that strengthened the team, the culture, or your leadership? What emotion comes up when you think about them (gratitude, admiration, respect, pride)? Capture that first feeling; it will guide your message.

2. Tailor: Consider how each person prefers to be appreciated. Do they enjoy public acknowledgment, or does that make them uncomfortable? Would they rather receive a personal note, a quick coffee chat, a quiet expression of trust, or a shoutout in a team meeting?

3. Articulate: Express your thanks in a way that connects. Be specific about what they did, describe the impact, and name the quality it revealed about them that you admire.

4. Anchor: End with how it matters to you personally or to the organization. “That moment reminded me why I am so proud to lead this team.”

Finally, consider that recognition done well is not a seasonal task; it is a leadership habit that builds your culture all year long.

THE LEADERSHIP YEAR-IN-REVIEW: Your Most Important Meeting of the Year is With Yourself

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Have you noticed that about this time every year, leaders start to resemble marathon runners rounding the final turn: sweaty, focused, and running mostly on adrenaline? That finish line is in sight, but everything around it is a blur. By December, the flurry of activity is about driving performance to hit year-end objectives, wrapping up budgets, writing impact reports, and squeezing in some last-ditch hail Mary efforts before the holidays hit. You’ve been pushing all year, but are you processing what actually happened this year?

We’re typically rewarded for activity and output, not for reflection. But reflection is where growth is born. Without pausing to connect the dots, we carry our old blind spots, limiting beliefs, bad habits, and frustrations into a new year, dressed up as shiny new goals.

In coaching conversations, even accomplished leaders who've met all their targets have told me they can feel a sense of drift rather than satisfaction. It’s not burnout or boredom, but a subtle realization that what they’re craving is integration and insight: the ability to make meaning from a whirlwind year before charging into the next one. Let’s talk about how to end 2025 with insight, not exhaustion.

THE COST OF NON-REFLECTION

Our brains need purpose and closure. Cognitive scientists call it the Zeigarnik Effect: the mind fixates on unfinished business; incomplete tasks create a kind of mental tension that keeps them active in our memories until they're resolved. This 'open loop' effect manifests as unresolved conversations, incomplete projects, or vague priorities that pop up in your thoughts at 3 a.m. Reflection helps the brain tie up loose ends and consolidate learning. Without it, we stay mentally cluttered, and that clutter follows us into January disguised as urgency.

After I completed a 'Hindsight/Insight/Foresight' coaching session with a senior VP client of mine, I asked her about the impact of that tool, and what she thought of the investment of attention and time it required. “I never realized how little I reflected on how I was leading. This exercise only took an hour and a half, but I came away with insights that changed how I’ll lead next year. It’s amazing how a short pause can reveal what months of motion can’t”.

She discovered patterns she’d never seen before; she'd realized that her best strategic calls were made when she slowed down; she noticed how overcommitment was her recurring derailment; and she was surprised at how rarely she stopped to celebrate wins. Her Q1 priorities the next year were simpler, sharper, and far more grounded.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Coaching Practice: HINDSIGHT/INSIGHT/FORESIGHT Framework™
The Hindsight/Insight/Foresight Framework™ is my proprietary coaching model, designed to help leaders translate reflection into strategy. In one focused 90-minute session, this practice helps leaders extract lessons from the past year, integrate insights, and turn reflection into purposeful forward planning.

Find a quiet space (both physically and in your calendar), take a few minutes to settle in and connect with your intention to reflect and explore with genuine curiosity. Bring a journal or note pad and pen. The physical act of writing your answers to the following prompts is a powerful part of the process. There are multiple questions in each step - answer them all to the best of your ability. Take your time. Don't edit yourself, just brain-dump.

HINDSIGHT
First, let's reflect on the past year, from your present moment perspective, using three lenses:

• What worked? Identify the conditions that enabled your best results. Where did you feel most in flow? Which relationships strengthened your impact? What decisions paid off because of courage, not convenience? What systems, processes, or data contributed to successful outcomes? Where did you experience personal growth, and what allowed that to happen?

• What didn’t? This isn’t about blame; it’s about recognizing patterns across all dimensions. Where did your mindset or emotional state hold you back? Which relationships drained your energy or limited collaboration? What decisions created unintended outcomes? Which systems or structures failed to support your goals? Where did you notice misalignment between your intentions and actions?

• What surprised you? Every year teaches us something unexpected. What moments revealed new truths about your motivations, values, or blind spots? Where did others respond differently than you anticipated? What new data or feedback shifted your perspective? How did your environment, systems, or team dynamics reveal something you hadn’t seen before?

INSIGHTS
Now it's time to review your brain dump notes, and to create meaning and insights from what you’ve written. Journal your answers to these questions: What do you notice? What patterns stand out? What lessons do you see emerging? Where did your values, emotions, or decision-making have the greatest influence on outcomes? These insights become the bridge between experience and growth.

FORESIGHT
Finally, turn reflection into direction by journaling about the following questions: How will I apply these insights to shape how I lead in 2026? What new habits will I commit to developing? What boundaries do I need to set, or to hold accountable? Which priorities will keep me aligned with what matters most?

WHY THIS MATTERS

It can be tempting to roll straight from performance reviews into next-year planning - especially if you're feeling exhausted at year-end. But without the important step of reflecting on the past, from the perspective of the present, in order to plan the future, it’s like a pilot powering up without checking the instruments, verifying the destination, or confirming the flight path. It's like flying blind. Reflection is your pre-flight check: it restores perspective, and ensures you’re heading to the right destination, at the right altitude.

The benefits are many: when you pause to harvest the lessons of the year, you build what psychologists call adaptive intelligence: the ability to learn from experience and apply it faster next time. And your team is watching how you close the year, so when you model curiosity, humility, and gratitude rather than fatigue, panic, or frustration, you give them permission to do the same. That shapes culture more powerfully than any year-end message or fruit basket ever could.

Before the full flurry of December overtakes you, block one uninterrupted 90-minute appointment with yourself, and give yourself the powerful gift of reflection. And if you'd like to explore this reflection as a strategic leadership tool with the support of an executive coach and leadership development expert, reach out for a free exploratory conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

LEADING THROUGH POLARIZATION: Staying Steady When the World Feels Divided

Two smart people sit across from each other in a meeting room. Both are calm. Both are right. And both are getting increasingly frustrated. What begins as a discussion about a company initiative morphs into something else: a collision of values, identity, and certainty. Each leaves the room convinced they were the reasonable one, and the other person is being difficult.

What happens when everyone is certain, and no one is listening?

THE NEW WORKPLACE DIVIDE

It used to be that politics stayed outside the office. Not anymore. From boardrooms to lunchrooms, polarization has seeped into corporate life, fueled by social media and the growing expectation that organizations must take public stands on social issues.

Recent research confirms how polarization can take a measurable toll on performance and retention. The Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM) reported in 2022 that one in four employees had considered leaving a job because workplace discussions around political or social issues became toxic. These trends show that polarization is not just a social problem; it has real consequences for innovation, engagement, and talent stability.

And according to the 2024 Edelman Trust Barometer, 63% of employees say they expect their CEO to take a stand on societal issues, yet only 30% of executives feel confident doing so. And trust in institutions, government, media, and business alike, continues to erode. The same report found that fewer than half of respondents trust “most people” they meet, a striking decline from a decade ago.

The result? A climate of fear and fatigue. Leaders tiptoe around sensitive topics. Employees scan for alignment before speaking openly. Diversity of thought, once celebrated, now feels risky. And polarization settles in like a heavy fog that clouds decision-making, trust, and collaboration across the organization.

But pretending the divide doesn’t exist isn’t neutral; it’s avoidance. So how do we create psychological safety in a world where safety itself can feel political?

WHY POLARIZATION FEELS SO PERSONAL

When someone challenges our deeply held beliefs, it doesn’t just feel like disagreement; it feels like threat. Studies by cognitive neuroscientist Jonas Kaplan and colleagues at the University of Southern California (2016) found that when people’s core beliefs are challenged, the brain activates the same regions associated with physical pain and self-protection. The amygdala lights up, cortisol spikes, and we default to fight, flight, freeze, or submit.

From a coaching lens, this is where identity and “shadow projection” come into play. When we’re triggered by another person’s view, it often isn’t just about their words. It’s about what we’ve disowned in ourselves, the traits or values we reject and then unconsciously project onto others. The conversation stops being about the topic and becomes a battle for belonging.

Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt captures this idea in The Righteous Mind, noting that we tend to be emotional creatures who occasionally think, rather than rational ones who occasionally feel. Our moral intuitions drive us first, and reasoning arrives later, usually to justify what we already believe.

In polarized times, the human brain is doing its job. It’s protecting us. But when we understand this biological response, we can choose curiosity over reactivity, allowing space for difference without making it dangerous.

SKILLS FOR LEADING ACROSS THE DIVIDE

Before diving into practical tools, it’s worth acknowledging that leading through polarization is less about having clever arguments and more about developing emotional stamina. The modern workplace is a microcosm of society’s divisions, and leaders often find themselves caught between opposing expectations from employees, customers, and even shareholders. Holding that tension without losing balance is a core leadership skill. The following practices are designed to help leaders stay steady, keep communication constructive, and rebuild trust when views diverge.

1. Listen for values, not positions.
Underneath every strong opinion is a value trying to express itself. If someone argues passionately about a policy, ask what that issue represents for them. Is it fairness? Safety? Freedom? When you reflect those values back, the tension often diffuses.

2. Frame conversations around shared purpose.
Teams can tolerate disagreement when they’re anchored in something bigger than the argument itself. A leader might say, “We don’t all need to think alike, but we do need to work toward the same outcome.” Purpose restores perspective.

3. Practise the discipline of neutrality.
Neutrality doesn’t mean silence or fence-sitting. It means creating the conditions where every voice can be heard without fear of ridicule or reprisal. The discipline is internal, holding your own judgments lightly, so others can show up fully.

4. Model curiosity over conviction.
When you lead with curiosity (“Help me understand what’s important to you about that”), you lower defences. Neuroscience research from the Centre for Creative Leadership (2023) shows that curiosity increases empathy and trust within teams, particularly in cross-ideological settings.

5. Create structured dialogue spaces.
A senior leader I coached had inherited a team who were divided over a corporate decision, and their team meetings had become emotionally charged. She convened a “listening circle,” where each person had three minutes to share their perspective uninterrupted. The only rule: others could only ask clarifying questions, not rebuttals. By the end, tensions had softened enough to create opportunities to build shared understanding, without the need for everyone to agree on all points.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE: FIND THE COMMON SENTENCE

To deepen learning and accountability, journal your reflections after each practice, or share your observations with a trusted peer or coach. This helps integrate the insights and reinforces new habits over time.

1. Pause and observe. In your next polarizing conversation, notice what is happening in real time.

2. Notice your reactions. Pay attention to any urge to defend, persuade, withdraw, or mentally check out.

3. Observe your body. Scan for signals such as a tightening jaw, tense shoulders, fidgeting, shallow breathing, or a raised voice.

4. Name the value at stake. Ask yourself, “What value of mine feels threatened here, such as fairness, autonomy, safety, or respect?”

5. Prepare two neutral questions. Before or during the meeting, use values-based questions that focus on shared goals, for example: “What do we both want for this team?” or “What would success look like for everyone here?”

6. Structure the dialogue. Invite one minute of uninterrupted sharing per person, followed by clarifying questions only. Listen specifically for points of alignment.

7. Capture the common sentence. Write down one sentence both sides could genuinely say “yes” to, such as, “We both care deeply about this company,” or, “We both want people to feel safe.”

8. Reflect and plan the next experiment. Journal three prompts: what shifted when I led with curiosity, what I would repeat next time, and what I will change in a higher stakes moment. Share one takeaway with a peer or coach and schedule the next opportunity to practice.

INFLUENCE FATIGUE: Staying Clear-Minded When Everyone’s Competing for Your Buy-In

If you’re in senior leadership, chances are everyone around you is trying to influence you, from your team to your board. The higher up in the organization you go, the more it shows up. Senior leaders face influence from every direction: employees seeking buy-in, peers pitching ideas, leaders setting new expectations, partners promoting initiatives, board members driving accountability, and customers shaping demands. It’s no wonder it can feel relentless. Without a system to manage the constant input, leaders can easily find themselves overloaded, reactive, or simply tuning out. Influence fatigue is real.

THE OVERLOAD PROBLEM

One senior executive I coach described it perfectly: “By lunchtime, I’ve already been pitched, persuaded, or pulled in ten different directions. And by 3 p.m., I’m mentally fried.” Those moments of fatigue don’t come from lack of commitment; they come from the sheer volume of persuasion that hits senior leaders every day.

The desire to influence is everywhere: it shows up in our inboxes, in team meetings and presentations, in hallway conversations and one-on-ones. Nearly every interaction carries an agenda, whether it’s an ask, a pitch, or a subtle call to action.

When everyone is trying to influence us, the mental load can become overwhelming. Research shows that constant exposure to persuasive messages and competing demands taxes the brain’s executive functions, reducing decision-making efficiency and accuracy (Pashler & Johnston, 1998, Annual Review of Psychology; Mark, Gudith & Klocke, 2008, Human Factors). Multitasking and frequent interruptions have been shown to lower productivity by up to 40 percent and significantly increase stress (American Psychological Association, 2019). Over time, this barrage of input erodes focus, weakens problem-solving, and diminishes our capacity to respond thoughtfully. When every conversation carries an influence agenda, the result isn’t engagement, it’s exhaustion.

Coaching reflection: What happens in your brain when everyone around you is trying to influence you? Do you lean in? Shut down? Get annoyed? Something else?

THE NEUROSCIENCE OF RESISTANCE

Understanding these neurological triggers isn’t just about how we influence others; it’s also about how we manage being influenced ourselves. Recognizing when your brain is shifting into stress or threat mode gives you the chance to pause, breathe, and stay anchored in discernment instead of reaction.

In The Influence Triangle (LinkedIn, 2024, link), I wrote that real persuasion doesn’t start with pressure; it starts with presence. The human brain cannot be influenced when it feels cornered or depleted.

When we sense urgency or manipulation, the stress response increases, flooding the system with cortisol and adrenaline. These chemicals narrow attention, limit creativity, and reduce empathy (McEwen, 2017, Annual Review of Neuroscience). It’s why people rarely say “yes” during high-pressure sales calls or heated meetings; they’re neurologically unavailable.

I once coached a VP who couldn’t understand why his brilliant transformation pitch wasn’t landing. His logic was flawless, but his timing wasn’t. He presented at the end of a full-day budget meeting, when cognitive energy was at its lowest. His colleagues weren’t rejecting his idea; they simply didn’t have the bandwidth to process it.

The brain’s openness to influence rests on three levers: timing, emotion, and connection.

• Timing ensures your message lands when someone has the capacity to hear it.

• Emotion activates meaning-making pathways in the brain, helping information stick.

• Connection builds trust, supported by the release of oxytocin, a neurochemical associated with social bonding and cooperation.

When any of these levers are missing, even the best argument falls flat.

WHAT AUTHENTIC INFLUENCE LOOKS LIKE NOW

For senior leaders, being influenced is about discernment. It means knowing which ideas, perspectives, and requests deserve your attention and which can be set aside. With so many competing voices trying to shape your thinking, developing your ability to filter what deserves your attention helps you to stay open without becoming swayed by every strong opinion, emotional appeal, or urgent ask. The key is managing signal versus noise.

HOW TO MANAGE SIGNAL VERSUS NOISE

This is a skill that strengthens over time. The more you practice identifying what deserves your attention, the easier it becomes to separate what’s meaningful from what’s merely loud.

How do we build those discernment muscles? Well, purpose and clarity help us decide which conversations truly deserve our consideration and which ones can pass by without reaction. Here are several questions to help you triage them:

• Timing: Do I have the cognitive and emotional bandwidth to process this right now? Even great ideas need the right conditions.

• Energy Cost: How much time or attention will this require? Does the investment match the potential return?

• Relevance: Does this align with my strategic priorities or current direction? If not, it may not warrant my full attention right now.

• Credibility: Is the information reliable? Does this person or data point have proven insight or influence?

• Impact: What would be the consequence of engaging or not engaging with this influence attempt? Will it meaningfully move something forward?

Using these criteria helps us remain open and curious without becoming reactive or depleted. It turns the daily flood of persuasion into manageable, intentional choices.

Authentic leadership influence isn’t just about how much we convince others; it’s also about how thoughtfully we allow ourselves to be influenced. When we stay grounded in discernment, we preserve clarity, purpose, energy, and trust. Others sense that steadiness, and paradoxically, that’s when our own influence becomes strongest.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Influence fatigue builds from how much you allow others’ persuasion to enter your awareness. Before your next big week of meetings or decisions, try this short exercise.

COACHING PRACTICE: Reset Your Influence Filter

Take ten quiet minutes at the start of the week to set your focus:

1. List your true priorities. Identify the three areas of work that genuinely require your attention and influence.

2. Anticipate possible influence attempts. Think ahead to who will likely try to sway your time, decisions, or focus, and note which deserve your full engagement and which can wait.

3. Name your triggers and vulnerabilities. Notice where you tend to overreact or get pulled into other people’s urgency.

4. Set your boundaries. Decide what kinds of input you’ll welcome and what you’ll decline, kindly but firmly.

Then experiment with these during the week. Pause once a day and ask, “Am I reacting to influence or responding with intention?” That simple question will help you keep your attention where it belongs: on what truly matters. And the more intentional you are about filtering influence, the more focused you’ll feel as a leader.

THE MIDLIFE PIVOT: Redefining Ambition in the Second Act

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I worked at the local newspaper in my 20s and 30s, and was hungry to make progress in my career. I wanted the office, the title, and the nameplate on the door that would surely tell me I had ‘arrived.’ When I finally got a hard-fought promotion and found myself in that crappy little clapboard office in the middle of the advertising department, I had sphincter-shifting moment of clarity: Was this what I had been working so long and hard for? This office with no window and no purpose? How could all of my striving, motivation, blood, sweat, and tears really have been about this?!

Years later, in my executive coaching work with leaders, I’ve heard similar stories from clients describing their moments of clarity: when the goals that once excited them no longer light them up. The visible symbols of success are still there of course, but for them, something feels off. The motivation that once fueled them now struggles to spark.

They’re not in crisis. They’re not even unhappy. They’re just… restless. In the spaces between deadlines and deliverables, a question begins to echo: Is this it?

If that sounds familiar, you’re not alone. More and more leaders are confronting what I call the midlife awareness pivot; the moment we realize that our ambition has changed its shape.

THE MYTH OF LINEAR SUCCESS

For most of our careers, we’re taught to think of success as a straight line: more responsibility, bigger budgets, progressive titles and offices on higher floors. It’s a climb, and each rung on the ladder is supposed to bring more satisfaction.

Except that often, it doesn’t.

I've worked with executive coaching clients at the mid-points of their careers, who had achieved what they set out to do, but who were feeling oddly disengaged. This often surprised or embarrassed them. Their resumes were impressive, but the goals that used to light them up didn't inspire them anymore. Their energy felt depleted, and they maintained some momentum because stopping felt dangerous.

If you can relate, know this: it isn’t a failure or a flaw; it’s evolution. You’ve simply outgrown your previous version of 'ambition'.

Economists David Blanchflower and Andrew Oswald (2008, Social Science & Medicine) documented what’s now called the U-shaped curve of happiness: career and life satisfaction tend to dip in midlife, not because we’ve done something wrong, but because our definition of fulfilment is catching up with who we’ve become. Harvard’s long-running Grant Study echoes this, showing that satisfaction tends to rebound later in life when people align work and purpose.

In other words: the problem isn’t the ladder. It’s that we’ve been climbing it without asking whether it’s still leaning against the right wall.

THE REAL ISSUE ISN’T BURNOUT, IT’S MEANING DEBT

Burnout is about exhaustion. But the emptiness we experience due to the erosion of purpose is what I call 'meaning debt': chasing goals without reflecting on what really matters to us.

Many leaders in their forties and fifties tell me they’re “fine.” Their teams perform, their calendars are full, and they keep checking the boxes. But inside, they feel an undercurrent of disconnection, like they’re performing competence instead of experiencing it.

That’s meaning debt. It builds up slowly over years of pursuing the next thing without asking why. The debt comes due when that next thing no longer satisfies.

One client put it beautifully: “I keep running faster toward goals that aren’t even mine anymore.”

The good news? Meaning debt can be repaid. And not through more exhaustive effort; but through reflection.

THE IDENTITY RECKONING

The midlife awareness pivot isn’t really a career crisis; it’s an identity recalibration. The traits that once made you successful, like drive, control, perfectionism, can eventually become the very things that hold you back. The identity you built to succeed in your thirties may no longer fit the person you’re becoming in your fifties.

It’s a bit like wearing a tailored suit from ten years ago: nice quality material, but a little too tight in all the wrong places. This is where the work of coaching becomes powerful. We peel back the professional persona to rediscover who’s underneath it. I often ask clients a simple but powerful question:

“Who are you, when you’re not performing the role of leader?”

That’s where they begin reconnecting to their -ness; the unique essence that makes them who they are, beyond their title or achievements.

REIMAGINING AMBITION

Ambition doesn’t disappear in midlife; it transforms. Early ambition is about proving ourselves. Mature ambition is about expressing ourselves. It moves from upward to inward, from climbing to contributing. This doesn’t mean giving up drive or downsizing dreams. It means aligning them with what actually matters now.

Some of my clients channel their experience into mentoring or teaching. Others pursue roles that focus on purpose-driven impact instead of prestige. A few take creative or entrepreneurial leaps they’d shelved for years. Their common thread? They’re no longer chasing validation. They’re pursuing vitality.

And the irony is that once they stop performing ambition, they become more inspiring than ever.

HOW COACHING HELPS LEADERS NAVIGATE THE PIVOT

The hardest part of the midlife awareness pivot is that you can’t think your way out of it; you have to feel your way through. That’s where executive coaching helps. Together, we slow the internal noise long enough to surface what’s truly shifting underneath. We unpack the tension between old success patterns and core values. We design small, practical experiments to explore what “the next chapter” might feel like before committing to larger changes.

Research supports this process. The International Coaching Federation (2023) reports that 80% of coaching clients experience improved self-confidence and 73% report better relationships. Harvard Business Review and McKinsey have both highlighted coaching as a key driver of leadership adaptability and purpose alignment at senior levels.

This isn’t about tearing down what you’ve built. It’s about renovating it to fit who you’ve become.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE: “WRITE YOUR FUTURE BIO”

If you’re feeling the restlessness of a midlife awareness pivot, try this:

1. Imagine it’s five years from now. You’ve made the decisions that align with your truest self; your most important values; your authentic purpose.

2. Now write the opening paragraph of your professional bio as if it were already true.
   What are you known for? What are you proud of? What have you stopped doing?

3. Read it back slowly. Notice what lights you up as you speak it. That’s where the spark of your next ambition lives.

The midlife awareness pivot isn’t the end of ambition. It’s the moment it becomes yours again.

If you’re standing at your own crossroads and ready to explore what’s next, reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.