Trying On Feedback
Unwrapping the gift and finding what fits
“Pound your fists on the table. Raise your voice. Get angry. Make your point.”
Yes. That was the exact feedback I received during a review early in my leadership career. And yes, this came from someone who definitely practiced what he preached. An executive known for his commanding presence in meetings and direct confrontational style.
I remember sitting there, nodding politely while internally thinking, Absolutely not. That wasn’t me or how I showed up as a leader. Nor who I wanted to be. I’ve always valued thoughtful dialogue and collaborative problem-solving. Table-pounding and raised voices seemed counterproductive.
I left that meeting ready to dismiss the feedback entirely.
But something about it lingered with me, like a pebble in my shoe I couldn’t quite shake loose.
After some reflection—and honestly, after holding a truth mirror up to myself—I realized there was something valuable in that feedback. The delivery method being suggested didn’t align with my values, but the underlying message revealed a genuine development area I’d been avoiding: I wasn’t sharing my perspective in critical moments. I wasn’t pushing back when I needed to, even when I had valuable insights. My voice was becoming nonexistent in the sea of other, more assertive leaders.
I’d sit in meetings where decisions were being made, listening and processing, then share my thoughts later in one-on-one settings rather than influencing the conversation in real-time. It felt more comfortable, less confrontational. But this pattern was limiting my impact and visibility as a leader. I was essentially self-selecting out of the conversations that mattered most.
So I decided to take the core of the feedback while rejecting its method. No, I didn’t pound my fists on the table. I never raised my voice. But I did consciously work to speak up, to share my perspective even when it was an unpopular point of view. I had to find a way to embody the essence of the feedback while staying true to my authentic leadership style: kind, but firm. No yelling, but more outspoken and clear about my point of view.
This required real intention and practice. I started preparing more thoroughly for meetings, identifying key points where my perspective needed to be heard. I practiced concise, clear statements that conveyed conviction without aggression. I rehearsed in my car on the way to work—yes, I was that person talking to herself at stoplights.
In my next leadership meeting, when a proposal ran counter to my team’s priorities and would have created significant challenges for our work, I calmly but clearly voiced my concerns. “I need to share a different perspective,” I began, maintaining steady eye contact with the room. “This approach creates three specific problems for our team’s current initiatives...” I outlined my concerns methodically, suggested an alternative, and held my ground during the discussion.
No table-pounding required. But my perspective was heard, acknowledged, and ultimately incorporated into the final decision.
That moment was a turning point. Over time, I discovered my own ways to show up more fully. I started using strategic questions to redirect conversations when I saw problems with a proposal. I’d lean on data and concrete examples to substantiate my viewpoints. Sometimes I’d reach out to key stakeholders before meetings when I knew difficult topics would arise, building alliances and support in advance. I got better at adding thoughtful, direct comments in online conversations and documents.
Looking back, I realize I’d unknowingly developed an approach that’s served me ever since, a way of handling feedback that initially feels at odds with who I am. It’s a bit like trying on clothes: you don’t buy everything that’s handed to you in the fitting room, instead you try it on and see what looks and feels good before deciding.
First, I create space between receiving feedback and responding to it. That initial reaction, whether it’s defensiveness or dismissal, rarely leads me anywhere useful.
Then, I look beyond the delivery style or specific suggestions to identify the underlying development area. What’s the core message beneath the words?
Next, I consider how I might address that core issue in a way that honors my authentic leadership approach. How can I grow without becoming someone I don’t recognize?
I experiment and refine. I test different approaches that feel authentic but stretch my comfort zone, evaluate what’s working, adjust what isn’t, and keep evolving.
This approach helped me again later when another leader suggested I needed to be “more political”, something that initially felt completely inauthentic to me. But when I extracted the core message about building strategic relationships, I found ways to connect with key stakeholders that felt genuine rather than manipulative. I wasn’t playing politics, I was building real relationships with intention.
Here’s what I’ve learned: feedback truly is a gift.
However, valuable feedback often arrives in packaging that doesn’t quite fit us. It comes from leaders with very different styles, or it’s wrapped in language that makes us bristle. But here’s the thing—receiving a gift doesn’t mean you have to use it exactly as given. Think of it like someone gifting you an outfit: you try it on, see how it fits, maybe keep the jacket but not the pants, or have it tailored to better fit your body. The same is true for feedback. If we can unwrap it, try it on, and mold it to fit our authentic leadership style, that’s where the real growth happens.
This is part of carving your own path, isn’t it? Taking what’s useful from others while staying true to who you are. Not following someone else’s blueprint for leadership, but being willing to learn and adapt while maintaining your authenticity.
So I’m curious—have you received feedback that initially made you cringe, only to discover something valuable inside it? Or maybe you’re sitting with feedback right now that doesn’t quite fit, and you’re trying to figure out what to do with it?
Hit reply and share your story with me. I love learning from how others navigate unwrapping the gift of feedback and finding what fits.
Next week, I’ll be exploring what to do when you’ve done everything right but still feel stuck—and why sometimes the problem isn’t you at all. Until then, keep carving your path.