IS IT ADAPTABILITY OR SELF-ABANDONMENT? 5 Signs You’re Losing Your Authenticity as a Leader

I was watching the 1999 movie Runaway Bride on a rainy Sunday. In it, Julia Roberts plays a woman who has become remarkably skilled at adapting herself to each man she plans to marry. Every fiancé likes his eggs prepared differently, and every time, she claims that his favourite is hers too. Eventually, she sits down with a plate of eggs prepared in several different ways because she has no idea how she actually likes them.

I'm sure that no one has ever derailed their career by pretending to like scrambled eggs. But changing your leadership identity with every new boss or initiative can be considerably more expensive.

Imagine working for three different executives in three years. The first rewards decisiveness, so you learn to arrive with an answer. The second values collaboration, so you become careful not to sound too certain. The third wants relentless optimism, so you become reluctant to name risks or issues.

You've adapted successfully to all three. But when someone finally asks what you genuinely think about a significant decision, you can bet that you'd struggle to answer. Like Julia Roberts’ character surveying that plate of eggs, you will have become much better at identifying other people’s preferences than locating your own.

Adaptability is one of the most celebrated qualities in leadership, and for good reason. Knowing how to read the room, flex your communication style, support a decision you might not have made yourself, and keep things moving when the organizational furniture is being rearranged around you are all important leadership skills.

But adaptability has a shadow side. If you keep reshaping yourself around every new person, priority, pressure, and preference, eventually you may struggle to remember what you genuinely stand for.

THE LINE IS EASY TO MISS

Self-abandonment is a pretty weighty term, but it doesn’t feel that way at the beginning, which is why it can take on a life of its own without our awareness. It usually happens one reasonable little accommodation at a time.

Your new boss prefers shorter, more decisive conversations, so you become more concise. That makes sense. Then you notice that questions are interpreted as resistance, so you begin asking fewer of them.

The organization announces an ambitious transformation, and you help your team get behind it. That is part of leadership. Then you realize the timelines are unrealistic, but everyone else appears enthusiastic, so you keep your concerns to yourself.

Your workload expands temporarily during a reorganization. You agree to stretch because the business genuinely needs you. Six months later, the temporary arrangement has become your job, and you've stopped mentioning the cost because you don't want to appear inflexible.

No single decision feels dramatic enough to count as self-abandonment. The pattern becomes visible only when you step back far enough to see what has accumulated. You are working harder to anticipate what other people want than to determine what you believe. You are editing your contribution before anyone else has the opportunity to respond to it. You have become exceptionally skilled at reading the room while gradually disappearing from it.

AUTHENTICITY DOESN’T MEAN REFUSING TO ADAPT

Leaders sometimes confuse authenticity with saying everything they think, exactly as they think it. That would not be authenticity. Effective leadership requires judgment about timing, language, context, and audience. You can remain true to your values while changing how you express them. You can disagree with a decision and still help implement it responsibly. You can choose not to raise every concern in every meeting without becoming complicit or voiceless. The crucial question is whether you are making these choices consciously.

Healthy adaptability sounds like this: “I understand what this situation requires, and I am choosing how best to respond.” Self-abandonment sounds more like this: “I know what I think, but it no longer feels safe, useful, or career-enhancing to let anyone else know.”

In a study published in The Journal of Psychology, research on authenticity at work supports the idea that it is distinct from simply “fitting in” at work, and that it is meaningfully related to well-being outcomes such as burnout and boredom. In other words, when people feel unable to show up authentically, it can be associated with poorer experiences at work (https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30285570/).

It means that fitting in and feeling like you can be yourself aren’t the same thing.

None of this means every preference needs to be defended as identity. Refusing to learn a new system because “that’s just not me” isn’t authenticity; it’s avoidance. But it does mean that repeatedly overriding your own judgment, values, and limits comes at a cost.

THE DEEPER ISSUE IS SELF-TRUST

When we keep overriding ourselves, we often assume the problem is confidence. Sometimes it is, but the deeper issue may be self-trust.

Confidence asks, “Can I handle this?” Self-trust asks, “Can I rely on my own perceptions, judgment, values, and experience, even when other people see things differently?”

Leaders with self-trust can reconsider an opinion without assuming they were wrong to hold it. They can receive feedback without reconstructing their entire identity around it, and adapt to a new boss without treating that person’s preferences as universal leadership law. And they can also recognize that discomfort doesn't automatically mean they are doing something wrong or need to change themselves.

Organizations send constant signals about what gets rewarded. We learn which opinions receive the nod of approval, which questions make the room tense, and which behaviours are described as “not quite executive enough.” We also notice who gets invited back into the conversation. Responding intelligently to those signals can be politically astute. The danger begins when we allow them to replace our internal compass.

Our organizations hired us for our experience, judgment, and perspective. If we continually reshape all three to resemble the people above and around us, we may become easier to manage. We may also become considerably less valuable.

FIVE SIGNS WE MAY HAVE CROSSED THE LINE

The shift from adaptability to self-abandonment often appears in ordinary leadership habits. These patterns can be difficult to recognize in ourselves because many of them begin as reasonable leadership choices. Any one of these behaviours may be situational, but a repeated pattern deserves a closer look.

1. WE CONSULT THE ROOM BEFORE WE CONSULT OURSELVES

Before deciding what we think, we scan for the safest or most popular position. By the time we read everyone else’s reactions, our own view has become difficult to locate. Reading the room is a valuable leadership capability. The problem begins when everyone else’s response becomes the raw material from which we construct our own.

2. WE KEEP MOVING OUR LIMITS

We agree to one more responsibility, one more unreasonable deadline, or one more evening of work. Every exception can be justified, but together, the exceptions become our operating model. Adaptability sometimes requires a temporary stretch. Self-abandonment turns temporary stretches into permanent expectations because we are reluctant to risk disappointing anyone by resetting the boundary.

3. WE TRANSLATE DISAGREEMENT INTO PERSONAL FAILURE

When someone challenges our view, we don't just reconsider the idea; we immediately question whether we were too direct, too difficult, too sensitive, too cautious, or simply too much (or not enough). Thoughtful leaders examine their impact. When we are losing self-trust, we may automatically assume that another person’s discomfort is evidence of our own failure.

4. OUR LEADERSHIP IDENTITY CHANGES WITH EVERY NEW BOSS

Different leaders reward different behaviours based on their own personal communication preferences and decision-making styles. We may find ourselves reshaping our style to match shifting expectations, which can gradually dilute our own sense of self. Expanding our range is healthy. The concern is whether each adaptation adds to our leadership capacity or replaces a piece of it.

5. WE FEEL RELIEF WHEN SOMEONE ELSE SAYS WHAT WE WERE THINKING

This can be one of the clearest clues. We had the concern, question, or alternative perspective, but waited until someone else made it safe to acknowledge. There are sensible reasons to choose the right moment or allow another person to lead. But if our first reaction is consistently relief that someone else took the risk, it may be worth asking why our own voice remained suppressed.

KEEP YOUR CENTRE AND EXPAND YOUR RANGE

The answer is not to become less adaptable. Senior leaders need considerable range, especially when organizations are contending with new technologies, changing workforce expectations, economic uncertainty, and frequent structural change. The opportunity is to build that range around a stable centre of gravity

Our centre includes the values we protect, the judgment we've earned through experience, the limits required for sustainable performance, and the leadership contribution we want to make. Our range includes the many ways we can communicate, collaborate, experiment, and respond.

A tree survives strong winds partly because it can bend and flex, but its ability to move also depends on having roots. Professional roots don't make us rigid; they allow us to flex without being carried away.

One place to begin is by separating what must remain stable from what is available for adaptation:

• Our communication style may be adaptable, but our integrity is not.

• Our methods may be adaptable, but our standards cannot disappear.

• Our timing may be adaptable, but our conviction that an important risk needs to be raised may remain firm.

• Our role may evolve, but our values are non-negotiable.

These distinctions are rarely obvious in the moment. They become clearer when we move beyond asking, “What does the organization need from me?” to ask a deeper question: “What do I need to remain authentic as a leader?”

BEFORE WE ADAPT AGAIN

The next time we feel pressure to reshape ourselves around a person or situation, we can pause long enough to examine what we are changing.

We can ask ourselves:

• Where am I deciding to override my judgment, and what's driving my decision?

• What specifically am I trying to avoid?

• What have I not yet said, and what's holding me back from saying it now?

• Which part of this situation genuinely requires my flexibility?

• Which value, limit, or responsibility needs to remain intact?

• If I continue responding this way for another year, what will the impact be on me?

Most leadership accommodations and adjustments are simply part of working effectively with other human beings, who remain stubbornly committed to being different from us. The challenge is to notice when a useful strength has started working against us. Adaptability should give us more ways to lead, connect, and navigate complexity, not require us to leave ourselves behind.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Find 30 minutes of quiet time when you can do this exercise in a calm state, without rushing or being interrupted.

Recall one recent moment when you adapted yourself to the room, then left the conversation feeling frustrated, diminished, resentful, or unlike yourself. Reconstruct that moment as specifically as you can, and when you have it clearly in your mind, answer the following questions:

1. Before you began adjusting to everyone else, what did you genuinely think, want, need, or believe?

2. What did you choose to say or do instead, and what were you trying to protect: approval, credibility, belonging, harmony, opportunity, or something else?

3. What did you assume might happen if you expressed your real perspective, held your limit, or acted on your own judgment? What evidence supports that assumption, and what evidence challenges it?

4. Who or what benefited from your accommodation? What did it cost you, your team, or the quality of the decision?

5. If you could replay that moment with both adaptability and self-trust, what would you keep about your approach, and what would you change?

6. Identify one upcoming situation in which you are likely to repeat this pattern. What, specifically, will you say, ask, decline, or protect so that you can remain flexible without leaving yourself behind?

We don’t need to reject other people’s preferences or sample every possible kind of egg. We simply need to know which choices are genuinely ours.

Adaptability remains one of the great strengths of effective leadership. Self-trust prevents that strength from becoming an over-strength and consuming the leader who possesses it.

If you want to explore how to remain adaptable without losing your self-trust or leaving yourself behind, reach out for a free executive coaching conversation at leslierohonczy.com.

HOW METAPHORS REVEAL WHAT ADVICE MISSES: Borrow this Powerful Tool from a Master Coach

By Leslie Rohonczy, IMC™, PCC

Executive Coach | Leadership Development Expert | Author | Speaker | ©2026 | www.leslierohonczy.com

Halfway through an executive coaching session with a senior leader, I saw it: that juicy a-ha moment when an insight sparks, and the body responds before the words arrive. My client’s posture shifted as I offered him a metaphor for what he was experiencing. He leaned forward and began nodding, then his hands joined the conversation. “That’s it,” he said. “That’s exactly me. Do you have a camera in my office?”

For the record, I don’t have cameras hidden in my clients’ offices. But what I did have was a metaphor that illustrated something true about how he had learned to operate. It was a unique lens that reflected back to him the strengths he relied on, the pressures he carried, the ways he protected himself, and the costs of those strategies.

And, maybe most importantly, he felt seen. He understood that I ‘got’ him and wasn’t judging him. We now had a safe, shared language for exploring something that had previously been difficult for him to name. That’s one reason I return to metaphor so often in my executive coaching work.

I should clarify what I mean by metaphor. I’m not suggesting that leaders dust off those tired old sports clichés we’ve all heard a thousand times: keep your eye on the ball, step up to the plate, get back in the game. Those expressions may add a bit of colour to a conversation (if you like the colour beige), but they rarely reveal anything new. A developmental metaphor is personal, specific, and rich enough to help someone recognize a pattern in how they operate, then explore its strengths, limitations, and possibilities.

But metaphor isn’t just a powerful coaching tool; leaders can use metaphors when coaching and developing their employees, too. You don’t need to be a professional coach, invent elaborate imagery, or turn every one-on-one into a voyage of symbolic discovery. Sometimes one well-timed image can help an employee describe a challenge they’re having more clearly, so they can examine it with less defensiveness, and imagine a different way of responding.

The metaphor itself is not the point. What matters is what it helps someone recognize about what’s happening now, and the new possibilities that recognition opens.

MOVING FROM INSIDE THE PATTERN TO OUTSIDE IT LOOKING IN

When a behavioural pattern is deeply embedded, we don’t typically experience it as a pattern; we just experience it as our reality.

The leader who throws on his cape and flies in to rescue the team may believe, “This is what responsible leadership looks like.” The person who puts on a suit of armour before a difficult conversation may believe, “I need this protection to remain composed.” The executive who moves at jet-boat speed may see the wake she leaves behind her, without fully recognizing how hard it is to bring other people along with her.

Metaphor can help someone gain enough distance to examine what is happening. Instead of saying, “I’m impatient and terrible at bringing people along,” a leader can begin to notice, “I can feel my jet boat accelerating again.” Instead of thinking, “I shut people out,” someone might say, “This suit of armour is getting too heavy.” Instead of thinking, “It’s all up to me,” someone might notice, “I’ve picked up everyone else’s backpacks again.” Instead of thinking, “If I don’t get them engaged and developing, I’m not doing my job,” a leader can begin to notice, “I’m pulling up every seedling to make sure it’s growing.”

That small change in language matters. The behaviour is still theirs to understand and address, but it no longer defines the whole person. They can step back, observe it, and begin making more deliberate choices.

Research on metaphor supports its role in helping people make sense of complex or less tangible experiences by connecting them with something more concrete and familiar. A metaphor will not automatically produce insight or behavioural change. It does, however, create another way to explore an experience and experiment with different responses.

What felt personal and loaded yesterday can become something two people place between them and examine together today. It leads to powerful questions like, “What does the armour protect?” “When did the jet boat become necessary?” “What might you be taking away from your employees by flying in to rescue them?” “What are you trying to prevent by tending the garden so intensely?” These questions invite curiosity into a conversation where judgment, frustration, or defensiveness may have been getting in the way.

A LENS, NEVER A LABEL

There is a risk in all of this, of course. A metaphor can become so clever, appealing, or memorable that the person offering it falls in love with it. Once that happens, we may start trying to stuff the other person’s experience into our beautifully shaped metaphor, instead of allowing their experience to shape it.

A metaphor should offer a lens through which someone can examine their experience. It should never become a label that defines them.

When I offer a metaphor to a client, I tell them explicitly that I am not attached to it. Leaders can give an employee the same permission: “This image may not fit. We can play with it, change it, challenge it, or throw it out, and find something else that feels more like it fits your experience.”

I once offered a Labrador Retriever guide dog as a metaphor for a client’s ability to guide a new leadership team through a merger with another group. I thought it fit beautifully. He was terrified of dogs. Needless to say, we found a new metaphor. The person being coached gets the deciding vote. It’s as simple as that.

Even a metaphor that resonates with several people may mean something different to each of them. A gardener might represent patience and trust for one leader. For another, it might reveal a tendency to overwater every plant, pull up the seedlings to check whether they are growing, and take personal responsibility for the weather. Same garden. Entirely different coaching stance.

HOW METAPHOR SHAPES MY COACHING

Integral Coaching Canada’s methodology has deeply shaped my use of developmental metaphor.

In my executive coaching work, metaphor can help a client recognize how they currently approach an important challenge and envision a broader, more intentional way of leading. That developmental work is far more extensive than the simple application I am sharing here.

Leaders are often given objectives such as “delegate more,” “become more strategic,” “communicate differently,” or “strengthen executive presence.” These may be worthwhile goals, but they rarely help someone recognize what to do differently when the pressure is on.

A strong metaphor gives the objective shape and texture.

Consider the leader whose approach resembles a jet racing boat. They are fast, responsive, decisive, and highly capable of reaching a destination quickly. Those strengths may have been richly rewarded throughout their career. At the same time, there is very little room in the boat for anyone else, and the leader’s speed may leave a wake of dependency, confusion, or disengagement behind them.

Simply advising this leader to slow down probably won’t create much change. The metaphor opens a richer developmental conversation:

• When does speed genuinely matter?

• Who needs to be in the boat with you?

• When would creating shared ownership matter more than arriving first?

• How will you retain your decisiveness while making more room for others?

The metaphor makes an abstract objective easier to recognize and work with in real situations.

What follows is a simple way for leaders to experiment with metaphor in developmental conversations. It is not a substitute for professional coach training or a complete coaching methodology. Four clever questions do not make anyone a Master Coach before lunch, but they can help you have more effective developmental conversations with your direct reports.

WHERE USEFUL METAPHORS COME FROM

Often, people hand us their metaphors without realizing it.

An employee may describe themselves as running on a treadmill, carrying everyone else’s load, juggling ten balls, playing every instrument, or wearing armour into important conversations. That language is worth noticing because it may reveal how they already understand their experience.

Imagine an employee saying, “I feel as though I’m juggling ten balls and everyone keeps throwing me another one.”

A leader could move immediately into workload solutions. Or they could become curious about the image:

• Which balls cannot be dropped?

• Which ones belong to you?

• Which were handed to you by someone else?

• Are any still in the air because you haven’t decided where they belong?

The metaphor does not replace a practical conversation about workload. It helps both people understand the workload more precisely before deciding what to do about it.

Sometimes, the person creates the image. Sometimes, you build it together. Occasionally, you may offer one based on what you’ve observed. However it emerges, the employee needs room to define its meaning, revise it, or reject it.

A rejected metaphor is useful information. It tells you that you have not yet found language that belongs to the person.

METAPHOR CAN HELP A TEAM SEE ITSELF

Metaphor can also help a group name how it wants to work together.

In my work with teams, I have seen the value of creating a collective metaphor that captures the team’s strengths, aspirations, relationships, and shared responsibilities. A team might identify itself as a pod of dolphins, for example, and develop its own understanding of what that image represents about how members navigate, communicate, protect one another, and move together.

The power comes from the meaning the team creates, rather than from the leader arriving with a polished image and announcing, “Good news, everyone. We’re dolphins now.”

A shared metaphor can give a team shorthand for conversations that would otherwise be difficult to begin. When the pod of dolphins is functioning well, what’s happening to make it so? When food sources are scarce and the pressure is on to find food, how does the pod adapt? What causes some dolphins to be separated from the pod, and how do the others help them navigate their way back?  

Because the metaphor belongs to everyone, it can become a useful reference point for reflecting on collective behaviour without immediately blaming an individual. The team can then discuss whether it’s living into its chosen image and what may need attention when it’s not.

Used thoughtfully, a collective metaphor can help a team name the culture it wants to create and recognize the everyday behaviours required to make that culture real.

USING METAPHOR WITHOUT GETTING IN ITS WAY

If you want to experiment with metaphor in a developmental conversation, a few practices matter:

• Listen for images already embedded in the person’s language. Their metaphor will often resonate more deeply than one imported from outside.

• Offer your own images lightly. “I wonder whether this is a little like…” creates more room than “Here is what you are.”

• Watch what happens before you elaborate. Changes in posture, energy, expression, words, or engagement may tell you whether the image is opening the conversation or closing it down.

• Let the person define the details. Ask what the metaphor means to them instead of explaining what you believe it ought to mean.

• Explore both its value and its cost. A jet boat, suit of armour, conductor, gardener, or superhero contains strengths as well as limitations. Development begins with understanding the whole pattern.

• Remember your authority. An employee may agree with a metaphor because their leader offered it. Make disagreement easy and explicit.

• Allow the metaphor to evolve. As the person develops, the image may acquire new features, change form, or become unnecessary.

Most importantly, don’t confuse recognition with transformation. A metaphor can create a powerful moment of awareness and insight, but insight is the beginning. Sustainable change still requires practice, reflection, experimentation, and new choices under real pressure.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Think about someone you are coaching or developing who has you feeling stuck. In your next conversation, listen carefully for the images embedded in how they describe their experience.

If none emerges naturally, you might ask:

“If this challenge were a vehicle (or a landscape, object, animal, machine, or character), what might it be?”

Then remain curious: What does the image reveal about how they currently see themselves or the situation? What strengths exist within it? What does the image protect, restrict, overlook, or leave behind? If it evolved to represent how they would like to approach the situation, what would change?

Resist the temptation to interpret the image for them or steer them toward the answer you think they need. The metaphor may help you see where their development could go next. More importantly, it may help them see it for themselves.

If you would like to explore the metaphors shaping how you lead, or create a collective metaphor that helps your team strengthen how it works together, I would love to help. Reach out to arrange a free exploratory executive coaching conversation at leslierohonczy.com.

WHY DO YOU REALLY WANT TO LEAD? 5 Uncomfortable Questions to Ask Yourself

By Leslie Rohonczy, IMC™, PCC

Executive Coach | Leadership Development Expert | Author | Speaker | ©2026 | www.leslierohonczy.com

Ask someone why they want a bigger leadership role, and you'll usually hear the standard answers: "I want to make a difference" or "I want to help people grow." Both may be completely sincere; admirable even, and definitely plausible. Also, probably not the whole story.

Perhaps you really want greater influence, recognition, money, authority, or challenge. Perhaps the promotion would prove something to a former boss, a parent, a colleague, or yourself. There's no shame in any of these drivers, and they don't make you unfit to lead. They make you human.

The risk begins when we refuse to examine those motivations more deeply. An unacknowledged need doesn't disappear when the promotion is announced. It just gets a larger office, a bigger budget, and more people to influence.

YOUR AMBITION IS DATA

Leadership researchers Kim-Yin Chan and Fritz Drasgow introduced the term ‘motivation to lead’ in their research on the three sources of leadership motivation: we may be drawn to leadership because we enjoy it and see ourselves as leaders; because we feel a duty to step forward; or because we're willing to accept the costs and responsibilities involved. Their findings also showed that motivation to lead adds meaningful information when predicting leadership potential.

In other words, the motivation for why we lead deserves more attention than a common question during a promotion interview.

Most of us have a mix of motives, not just one. We can care deeply about helping others, enjoy being influential, and appreciate the salary increase. Self-awareness asks us to recognize what's driving us, so those motives don't take over when pressure rises.

The more useful question, then, isn't simply, “Do I want the job?” It’s, “Do I want the work the job will require of me?” That work comes with a few uncomfortable tests.

FIVE POWERFUL QUESTIONS

Here are five questions that can help you look beneath those standard polished reasons for wanting to lead and examine what may also be driving you. Whether you’re considering a leadership role or already in one, reflect on them with curiosity rather than trying to produce “right” answers. They can help you distinguish between wanting the title and wanting the work that comes with it. They can also help you anticipate where your motives could shape your behaviour, and make more deliberate choices about the kind of leader you want to be.

1. WOULD YOU STILL WANT TO LEAD WITHOUT THE RECOGNITION?

Imagine that your new title will impress no one. There's no spotlight, no special recognition, caché, or fancy office that comes with this promotion. And you'll still have to address poor performance, defend an unpopular decision, absorb pressure from above, and support people through uncertainty.

Does the work still interest you? Not the title, but the day-to-day work required. This simple question can help you separate attraction to the role from appetite for its actual, although less glamorous, responsibilities.

2. ARE YOU WILLING TO GIVE AWAY DECISIONS AND CREDIT?

Many people earn leadership roles because they're excellent operational problem-solvers. They're great at doing the work, and they often get fulfillment from it. Then they're promoted as a reward for doing it so well, only to discover that the promotion has taken them away from the very work that made them happy and successful.

Their value used to come from doing and solving problems exceptionally well. But on the other side of a promotion, their value as leaders must now come from building other people's judgment, coaching and guiding them for development and performance, and getting the work done through others.

That can be a tough pill to swallow for someone who loves the doing part. Suddenly, they're standing outside the fun stuff like a kid looking in a candy shop window. Solving the problem themselves would be faster. Rewriting the work would be easier. Making the decision would feel satisfying. Being in the action would be juicy. And without realizing it, they become the bottleneck.

Leadership asks us to let someone else wrestle with a problem, try new things, explore solutions, make a sound decision, implement it, and receive the credit. If your identity depends on being the person with the answers, leadership can expose that dependency pretty quickly.

3. CAN PEOPLE DISAGREE WITH YOU SAFELY?

Authority changes conversations. Even warm, approachable leaders underestimate how much people edit themselves around power. Gallup has reported that managers account for approximately 70% of the variance in employee engagement across business units. How a leader listens, responds, delegates, recognizes, and corrects has enormous consequences.

As your authority grows, people are less willing to risk candour. You can make it safer by receiving feedback openly while resisting the urge to explain it away. You can also reward people who surface risks, and allow disagreement to influence your thinking. If everyone agrees with you, it may be because your judgment is consistently sound, but it may also be because people don't feel safe challenging you. That possibility deserves investigation too.

4. DO YOU WANT TO GROW PEOPLE, EVEN WHEN IT SLOWS YOU DOWN?

“I want to develop others” sounds splendid until development becomes inconvenient. Real development requires time, clarity, stretch, experimentation, unintended consequences, feedback, and room to learn. Sometimes it means watching someone take the scenic route to a conclusion you reached ten minutes ago. Sometimes it means coaching a capable person who may eventually outgrow your team.

“Developing people” can't survive as a slogan. It has to appear in calendars, assignments, actions, conversations, and decisions about who gets opportunities, recognition, and visibility.

5. WHAT DO YOU EXPECT LEADERSHIP TO PROVE?

This may be the most revealing question of all. Complete these sentences from your own individual perspective, without answering on behalf of your organization, your team, or the interview panel:

• When I reach the next level, I'll feel...

• I'll finally know...

• Other people will see me as...

• I'll no longer have to...

• I'll have proved...

Read your answers with curiosity. Look for the emotional contract you may be trying to sign with the role or title. A promotion can give you more authority. It can't permanently settle whether you're intelligent, valuable, respected, or enough. When we ask a title to do that for us, we get unintended consequences: we may hoard decisions to feel essential, avoid feedback to preserve a feeling of certainty, or overwork to justify our place. Those patterns are costly, but they're coachable once we become aware of them.

THE QUESTION BEHIND THE QUESTION

Wanting to lead isn't evidence that you should. Some uncertainty about whether leadership is right for you may reflect a healthy respect for what the role will require of you.

Before pursuing the next title, we might ask a more demanding set of questions: Do I want to hold power, and how would I use it responsibly? Can I help others become less dependent on me? Am I willing to hear what authority makes harder for people to say? Can I remain curious about my impact when my intentions are good?

The strongest motivation for leadership may not be pure selflessness or naked ambition, but the willingness to keep examining both, while accepting responsibility for what our motives produce in other people.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Write down every reason you want your current leadership role, or the next one. Include the obvious reasons, and also include the private reasons you would choose to edit out of an interview answer. Then ask: When this motive is healthy, how does it strengthen my leadership? When it takes over, what might other people experience from me? You don't need perfectly selfless motives to lead well. You need to understand what is driving you, recognize how those motives shape your decisions and relationships, and take responsibility when they begin to lead you instead of serving the people you lead.

SOURCES

Chan, K. Y., and Drasgow, F. (2001). Toward a theory of individual differences and leadership: Understanding the motivation to lead. Journal of Applied Psychology, 86(3), 481 498. Gallup (2015). Managers Account for 70% of Variance in Employee Engagement.

THE SIX ENGINES OF AMBITION: Do You Know Your Ambition Profile?

by Leslie Rohonczy, IMC, PCC, Executive Coach & Author

(LISTEN TO NARRATED AUDIOARTICLE VERSION)

If you're like most ambitious leaders, you probably know where you want to go. And also like many leaders, you may never have stopped to ask yourself what's pulling you there.

Promotion conversations usually revolve around readiness. Do you have the experience? Have you demonstrated executive presence? Can you think strategically? Are you ready to lead at the next level? These are important questions, and organizations should absolutely be asking them. They're just not the questions that intrigue me most.

When a client tells me they're hoping to become a Vice President, a C-suite executive, or even to make the move into their first leadership role, I'm curious about something else: "What is it about that role that's so appealing to you?"

At first, the answer is usually broad, and typically, "I want to make a difference." It's a perfectly reasonable answer. It just isn't the whole answer.

As we continue the conversation, something fascinating almost always emerges. Two leaders can be pursuing the same promotion for completely different reasons. One is captivated by the opportunity to shape the organization's future. Another lights up when talking about developing people. A third is excited by the challenge of operating at a completely different level. Someone else feels a responsibility to step forward because they know they can help. From the outside, they appear to be travelling the same road. Under the hood, though, they're powered by very different engines.

After seeing this pattern again and again over the years, I began sketching what eventually became the Six Engines of Ambition model. These engines represent the motivations that create the horsepower behind our ambition. We all have all six within us, but each contributes a different amount of power. That mix is unique to each person, and it often shifts as our careers evolve.

Before reading further, resist the temptation to decide which engine you are. That's a bit like asking which instrument matters most in an orchestra. Almost nobody is powered by a single engine. Instead, notice which descriptions resonate most strongly with you. You're not looking for one answer; you're discovering the mix of engines in your profile.

Calling is the engine of purpose. If this is one of your strongest engines, the organization's mission matters deeply to you. You're less attracted to leadership itself than to the opportunity to advance something you genuinely believe deserves your energy. Ask yourself what excites you most about the next promotion. If your answer begins with the organization's purpose rather than your own career, then your Calling Engine is probably doing a lot of the work. Its shadow appears when the mission becomes so intertwined with your identity that disagreement starts feeling personal.

Contribution is the engine of service. These leaders gain enormous satisfaction from making other people's lives better. They enjoy coaching, mentoring, removing obstacles, and creating environments where others can thrive. They're often the people who leave a meeting thinking less about how they performed and more about whether everyone else left feeling heard, supported, or inspired. Their shadow is over-functioning. Helping gradually becomes rescuing, and before long, they're carrying responsibilities that belong to someone else.

Vision is fueled by possibility. These leaders naturally look over the horizon. They become energized imagining what the organization could become three, five or ten years from now. They enjoy building, transforming, and creating. If you find yourself becoming impatient with conversations that never seem to move beyond today's operational issues, the Vision Engine may be one of your dominant drivers. Its shadow appears when tomorrow becomes so exciting that today starts feeling like an inconvenience.

Adventure is the engine of growth. Some people see uncertainty and instinctively think, that sounds interesting. New challenges, unfamiliar situations, and bigger problems energize them rather than intimidate them. Every promotion is another chance to discover what they're capable of. Their shadow appears when climbing becomes more rewarding than contributing, leaving them constantly searching for the next mountain before fully appreciating the one they're already standing on.

Obligation is fueled by responsibility. I've coached many leaders who never set out to become senior executives. They simply looked around, saw a need, and concluded that someone had to step forward. They care deeply about doing the right thing and are often the people organizations depend on during difficult times. If you've ever caught yourself thinking, If I don't do this, who will?, there's a good chance the Obligation Engine is one of your strongest drivers. Its shadow is becoming indispensable. Delegation becomes difficult because being the dependable one has become part of your identity.

Ego is the engine most people are reluctant to acknowledge. There is often a degree of shame attached to admitting it's one of our drivers because we associate ego with being egotistical or self-aggrandizing. I don't believe that's true. Recognition matters. Achievement matters. Titles matter. Human beings have always cared about status, and healthy ambition has fueled extraordinary careers. There's nothing inherently wrong with wanting to accomplish something significant or being proud when others recognize your contribution. The shadow appears only when the title becomes more important than the work, or when your sense of self becomes defined by the title on your business card.

One of the things I find most fascinating is that these engines rarely stay in the same proportions throughout a career. I coached a newly promoted manager early in my coaching career. About fifteen years later he called me again because he was trying to decide whether to pursue an executive role. On paper, it looked like the obvious next step. He had the experience, the credibility, and the support of his organization. Yet something just didn't feel quite right.

As we explored what was creating the hesitation, he said, "I don't actually want the title. I want the chance to shape where we're going." That moment changed the conversation. Until then, he believed he was pursuing a promotion. What he eventually discovered was that, unlike fifteen years earlier, he was now being driven by the Vision Engine. Once he understood that, he also realized there were several ways to influence the organization's future, only one of which involved the executive role he'd been focused on.

I've watched similar discoveries unfold many times. Leaders realize they've been driven primarily by the Contribution Engine without ever recognizing it. Others discover that their Obligation Engine has been making career decisions for years. Some come to appreciate their Ego Engine for giving them the confidence to pursue opportunities they might otherwise have avoided, while realizing it no longer needed to be their dominant engine. The engines themselves aren't the problem. The problem is allowing them to operate without ever noticing which one is doing most of the driving.

The goal isn't simply to identify your ambition engine; it's to understand your Ambition Profile. Once you do, career decisions become clearer, and you begin recognizing why certain opportunities immediately excite you while others, despite offering more money or prestige, leave you feeling meh. That's when you stop measuring your ambition against someone else's and begin making choices that are genuinely aligned with your own motivations.

Your next promotion may change your title. But understanding your Ambition Profile may change your career.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

BUILD YOUR AMBITION PROFILE: Spend some time with the Six Ambition Engines definitions above, and estimate your current profile by assigning a percentage to each one. You may have a sense of your strongest, and your weakest engines – fill those in first. Don't answer based on who you aspire to become. Base your answers on the choices you've consistently made in your career. Your total should equal 100%.

• Calling: _____%

• Contribution: _____%

• Vision: _____%

• Adventure: _____%

• Obligation: _____%

• Ego: _____%

Now ask yourself three questions:

1. Which ambition engine has generated most of the horsepower that got me where I am today?

2. Which engine may be revving higher than it should be?

3. Over the next five years, which engine do I want fueling this next chapter?

Your answers may reinforce the career path you're already on, or they may point you in an entirely different direction. Either way, you'll gain insights into yourself that many ambitious leaders never stop to examine.

HOW OLD IS THE PERSON STEERING YOUR CAREER? Your Destination Was Chosen by Someone Who No Longer Exists

Leslie Rohonczy, IMC, PCC, Executive Coach & Author

 (LISTEN TO NARRATED AUDIOARTICLE VERSION)

The first few years of my adult life were the striving years. Striving to make ends meet, striving to get noticed in my career, among a sea of other young professionals who always seemed to be better at standing out from the crowd than I was; striving for a promotion to the next level, without ever really asking myself why a title was my end game; striving to feel my own worth, when I didn’t feel at all worthy.

And when I finally got that hard-fought promotion, and found myself in that shitty little clapboard office in the middle of the advertising department at our local newspaper, I had a 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?!”

That experience, and that question, changed my career. The promotion was exactly what I'd wanted, which was precisely the problem. I'd spent years chasing a destination chosen by a version of me who no longer existed.

At the time, I couldn't have explained what was happening. I just knew something felt profoundly off. Looking back now, I realize it was the first time I'd noticed that somewhere between the striving and the arriving, it was me that had changed, not the destination.

That experience isn't unique to me. I've heard versions of this experience in many of my executive coaching conversations. The offices are usually much nicer than mine was, and the titles on the business card are more impressive, but eventually the same uncomfortable question appears: Now what? Or sometimes: Is this really all there is?

Life reshapes us while we are busy building our careers. The destination we chose at twenty-eight no longer fits the person we've become at forty-eight, but we may not see it if we don't pause long enough to notice the mismatch.

A few weeks ago, I found myself watching a YouTube video of a single sculler crossing a perfectly calm lake. There was something mesmerizing about how the boat cut through the glassy water. Every stroke looked powerful yet effortless, as it glided across the water with absolute purpose.

I find rowing kind of a strange way to travel. The boat moves confidently forward while the rower faces the opposite direction. Rowers can clearly see where they've been. They can study the wake they've left behind, and can appreciate every kilometer they've already travelled. The one thing they can't actually see is where they're going.

Hey, that also describes many leadership careers! Early in our careers we choose a direction that makes complete sense at the time. We pursue promotions, bigger teams with more span of control, financial security, influence, recognition, and the opportunity to prove ourselves. We want to make our parents proud, build something meaningful, provide for our families, or finally settle that relentless inner voice insisting we're still not enough.

There is nothing wrong with any of those motivations. In fact, they often provide exactly the fuel we need during those demanding early years. But life has a habit of changing us while we're busy rowing.

Successes often turn out to be less satisfying than we imagined. We experience illness, burnout, unexpected opportunities, disappointments, and moments of clarity we never saw coming. And over time, our definition of success begins to evolve. Status starts giving way to significance. Recognition becomes less important than contribution. Freedom matters more than prestige.

The person holding the oars today isn't the same person who first climbed into the boat and set the direction. Yet many of us continue rowing toward the same destination simply because that's where we pointed the boat years ago.

One of my favourite coaching questions catches people completely off guard: How old is the person currently steering your career?

Sometimes it's the twenty-five-year-old you who's desperate to prove she belongs. Or the young father determined to build financial security for his new family. Sometimes it's the ambitious new executive convinced that one more promotion will finally deliver the satisfaction they've been chasing.

That younger version of ourselves deserves enormous respect. They worked hard, took risks, made sacrifices, and created opportunities that today's version of us benefits from every single day. But they couldn't possibly have known who we would become. They didn't know which experiences would shape us, what losses we would endure, what relationships would change us, or how dramatically our understanding of a meaningful life would evolve.

So why are they still deciding where we're headed?

I think this is where many can get stuck. It might feel like lost ambition after decades of investment and building up our expertise, relationships, credibility, and identity. Changing direction can begin to feel like admitting those investments were mistakes. They weren't. They just brought us to the place where we're finally experienced enough to ask a better question.

Instead of asking, “Can I get there?” the question becomes, “Do I still want 'there'?”

That may be one of the hardest career questions we'll ever ask ourselves because the answer often asks us to loosen our grip on a destination we've carried for years; one that feels like our encoded mission, because we've been chasing it so long.

One of the greatest gifts coaching has ever given me is permission to pause before pushing forward. We're conditioned to believe that success comes from rowing harder. Sometimes it does. But sometimes, the wisest thing a rower can do is lift the oars from the water, let the boat glide, and take some time to turn around and really study their trajectory.

Only then can you answer the question, "does this destination still belong to the person I am today?" I encourage leaders to ask themselves uncomfortable questions as part of the process. Questions like, "If you were choosing your career today, would you choose the same destination?" "Which ambitions genuinely belong to you, and which belong to a younger version of yourself?" "What are you continuing simply because you've already invested so much?" "What gives you energy today that barely mattered ten years ago?" "If nobody else's expectations mattered, where would you point the boat?"

Sometimes the answers are deeply reassuring. You discover you're exactly where you're meant to be, and you begin rowing again with conviction because your destination has been consciously chosen by the person you are today, and not inherited from someone you used to be.

Other times the answers lead somewhere entirely different: a new awareness, a different role, a revised definition of success, a shift in priorities, or a career that finally reflects the person you've become instead of the person you once were.

Neither outcome means your younger self got it wrong. That version of you did exactly what they were supposed to do: they got you this far. But at some point, every leader deserves to ask a simple question: Who is this person holding the oars now?

The younger version of you chose a destination with the wisdom they had at the time. You don't owe them blind obedience. You owe them gratitude.

Now it's your turn to decide where the boat goes next.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

This week, spend ten uninterrupted minutes with a blank sheet of paper. Across the top, write this question: How old is the person currently steering my career?

Don't answer it too quickly. Think about the ambitions you're pursuing right now, the goals you're sacrificing for, the opportunities you're saying yes to, and the ones you're turning down.

Then ask yourself: If I were starting my career today, with everything I've learned about myself over the past twenty years, would I still choose this destination?

If the answer is yes, you've just reaffirmed that you're rowing with purpose. If the answer is no, don't panic. You don't have to change direction tomorrow. You simply need to acknowledge that the person holding the oars today deserves a voice in deciding where your boat goes next.

OUR CAREER-LIMITING ADDICTION TO CERTAINTY: Why Some Leadership Decisions Stay Stuck

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Are you waiting for information you can’t possibly obtain? I don't mean that you're looking in the wrong place. I’m talking about information you’re waiting for that literally does not yet exist.

That may sound strange, but I see it regularly in my executive coaching work with leaders. The decision might involve any number of challenging scenarios: a strategic shift, a career move, a difficult conversation, an investment in a new opportunity. The details vary, but the pattern is remarkably consistent: a leader wants more information, clearer insight, and greater confidence that the decision will work out as they intend. On the surface, that sounds sensible. And most of us would prefer thoughtful leaders to impulsive ones.

The challenge, however, is one of diminishing returns: some decisions eventually reach a point where additional thinking stops producing additional clarity. The facts have been gathered, the options have been explored, trusted people have offered their perspectives, and the risks are reasonably well understood. But there it sits, parked, waiting for... what?

In my executive coaching work with leaders, I've noticed that people rarely get stuck because they haven't thought enough. By the time they're talking to me, they've usually considered their situation from every conceivable angle. They've researched, talked it through with trusted colleagues, slept on it, revisited it, and probably had the conversation with themselves a dozen times.

But something often goes unnoticed: the quest for information that belongs to a future chapter of the story. They assume that if they think a little deeper, analyze a little harder, or wait a little longer, the missing piece will eventually appear. Sometimes it does, and sometimes the information they're looking for can only emerge after action begins.

I was reminded of this recently while speaking with a client who was considering a significant career move. She had done her homework thoroughly. She understood the opportunity, the risks, and the trade-offs involved. She had spoken with people she respected and spent considerable time reflecting on the decision. At one point, she made a joke about it and said she was waiting for the universe to send her a registered letter confirming she was making the right choice. The image made us both smile because it captured the situation, and her wiring, perfectly. (Sometimes, clients come up with the perfect metaphor on their own.)

She wasn't avoiding the decision or being careless. She had simply reached the point where further analysis was unlikely to produce anything meaningfully new. The information she wanted was on the other side of the decision, the result of experiencing it firsthand.

Many leadership decisions eventually arrive at this point. More analysis feels productive because analysis has served us well throughout our careers. Gathering information is often the right response to uncertainty. The difficulty comes when we continue gathering long after we've exhausted what the current chapter can teach us.

Ronald Heifetz's work on Adaptive Leadership offers a useful distinction here. Technical problems can often be solved through expertise and existing knowledge. Adaptive challenges are different. They require learning, experimentation, and movement into territory where important answers emerge only after action has begun.

Senior leaders encounter these challenges constantly. Markets change. Technologies reshape industries. Customer expectations evolve. Business models that once seemed stable begin to shift. In situations like these, leaders often keep searching for information that nobody has access to yet. Not the board. Not the consultants. Not the person with twenty years of industry experience.

Reality is frustrating that way. It tends to hold onto certain information until somebody actually does something. Leaders who would never describe themselves as risk-averse can find themselves waiting for reassurance that cannot be obtained ahead of time. The decision remains under review, another meeting gets scheduled, another discussion takes place, and the future remains politely on hold.

Meanwhile, reality keeps moving. Competitors make decisions, employees draw conclusions, and opportunities evolve. More importantly, new information appears when somebody tests an idea, enters a market, has a conversation, launches a project, accepts a role, or declines one. Action reveals things that analysis cannot.

That's why people who move sometimes appear to have better information than everyone else. In many cases, they created it. I’m not advising recklessness or abandoning thoughtful analysis. Good leaders should examine assumptions, consider consequences, and seek wise counsel. The challenge is recognising when analysis has delivered everything it can reasonably provide. Many important leadership decisions don't begin with certainty. They begin with a willingness to learn.

My client eventually made her move. What struck me afterwards wasn't whether the decision worked out. It was how little new information appeared between the moment she felt stuck and the moment she finally acted. The certainty she had been waiting for never arrived. What arrived was the next chapter of information. Once she stepped into the experience, she began learning things that had been impossible to know beforehand. Those insights had never been available to her while she was standing still.

That realization has stayed with me because it applies to far more than career decisions. Some of the information we want most is unavailable until we begin moving toward it.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

• Think about a decision you've been carrying for a while.

• Write down the information you believe you still need before acting. Then write down what information could only become available after you take action.

• As you compare the two lists, notice whether you've been waiting for information that genuinely exists or information that belongs to a future chapter of the story.

• If certainty never arrives, what decision would you make based on what you already know?

• Sit with that question for a few minutes and notice what emerges.

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

FEEDBACK ISN’T YOUR PROBLEM (But Your Relationship to Feedback Might Be)

By Leslie Rohonczy, IMC™, PCC

Executive Coach | Leadership Development Expert | Author | Speaker | ©2026 | www.leslierohonczy.com

(LISTEN TO NARRATED AUDIOARTICLE VERSION)

Most leaders believe they’re open to feedback… right up until the moment they hear something they don’t like. But it’s what happens next that reveals our relationship to it.

I remember sitting across from a senior leader who told me he was "very open to feedback". He wasn’t posturing; he meant it. He regularly asked for input, encouraged it, and even thanked people for it. Technically, he was doing all the right things, right up until that critical moment.

His peer offered him feedback about a client meeting they attended together. Within seconds of hearing her observations, he stepped in with all the context: a bit of background, a quick clarification, a touch of justification, a hint of over-explaining, even a suggestion that she had misread his intentions; then a gentle repositioning of what he meant versus what actually happened. It was a lot. He was articulate, calm, and had been completely effective at shutting the whole thing down. His peer didn't argue or push back, and the conversation just wrapped itself up. From his perspective, it was a good exchange. From hers, it wasn’t worth pushing any further - or doing in the future.

This is where the real issue lies: we each have our own special relationship to feedback, a unique pattern of reactions that show up in the first few seconds after we hear it. That relationship determines whether the conversation opens up or closes down. While we’re looking for clear, useful input, our team and colleagues are asking themselves how much of this is actually safe to say.

Amy Edmondson’s research at Harvard Business School has shown that when people sense even a small interpersonal risk, they adjust by softening their message, rounding off the edges, and removing the parts that might upset or land poorly. The feedback doesn’t disappear, but it loses its teeth, sometimes becoming so neutral and mushy that it's unrecognizable - and unusable as a result.

There’s another layer that shows up before feedback is even given: the way most leaders ask for feedback makes it harder to offer anything useful. “Is there anything I could do differently?” sounds generous, but it leaves the other person with too much space and not enough direction. The brain stalls. There’s nothing concrete to grab onto.

Now compare that to, “What’s one thing I could do differently in our next client meeting?” That question gives the other person somewhere to start. It’s specific, focused, and much easier to answer. This small shift can create a big difference.

Now layer that with what happens after the feedback lands, because this is where our relationship to feedback shows up in full colour. We rarely receive feedback as 'neutral data'. Most often, we see it as someone's interpretation of something they saw us say or do. It brushes up against our identity, competence, and reputation, and it pokes the part of us that wants to be seen as credible, valued, and in control. That means we're not just hearing the feedback; we're reacting to what we think it says about us as a person.

Our brains are wired to react fast. Research in social neuroscience by Matthew Lieberman at UCLA shows that perceived social threats, including criticism, can activate the same neural pathways as physical pain. Think about that: our brains interpret both as pain! So the urge to explain, clarify, or straighten the record isn’t a personality flaw; it's a hard-wired reflex. The issue shows up when we're not aware that the reflex has taken us over.

Our teams watch those micro-moments closely. They notice how long we stay with a hard comment, whether we get curious or defensive, and whether the conversation opens up or closes down. Over time, they adjust and bring us the version of feedback that keeps things moving, avoids friction, and sounds useful without creating risk.

And just like that, our access to deeper insights about ourselves narrows. Meetings still happen, conversations still feel productive, and we still believe we’re open to feedback. We just don’t realize how much of it never makes it to us.

Think about the last time someone offered you feedback. What did you do in the first few seconds after you heard it? Was there something that didn’t sit well? Was your instinct to move to resolve it? Did you stay open and curious with it? Did you explain? Did you have the urge to tidy the moment, or did you let it breathe? These are some common reactions to feedback in the moment. What's yours typically?

One leader I worked with ran a simple experiment. Every time he received feedback, he had to ask one more question about their observation. Not a deep dive series of questions that would feel like an interrogation, just one genuine question intended to help him understand what the other person was seeing. At first, it felt awkward and slower than his usual pace, and he worried it made him look unsure.

What actually happened was different. People started giving more details without being asked, offering examples, and staying in genuine conversation longer. The feedback became sharper and more useful because his stance in the moment had changed.

This is where stance matters. In feedback conversations, our job as the receiver is simple (but not easy): receive the feedback, thank the person for offering it, ask a clarifying question if something isn’t clear, and then reflect. Not defend; not explain; reflect. That reflection is where we close blind spots and gaps we can’t see on our own, and it’s the part most of us skip because it can be uncomfortable.

Nothing about the feedback itself had changed. His relationship to it had. We don’t need to agree with every piece of feedback we receive, and we don’t need to suppress our reactions. We do need to notice them and resist acting on them too quickly. Staying in the moment a little longer and asking a genuine question changes what becomes available to us. It also changes how people experience us, and that ultimately determines whether they will tell us what we need to hear.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Think about the last piece of feedback that stayed with you; the one that lingered, and felt genuinely uncomfortable. What happened in your head in the first few seconds?

Now imagine that moment again, but this time, you take on a deliberate stance as the receiver.

First, receive it fully. No interruption, no correction, no facial gymnastics. Just take it in without judgment or defense.

Second, acknowledge the person. Not just a quick “thanks,” but a genuine appreciation for both the perspective and the courage it took to offer it. Feedback, especially upward or sideways, feels risky. When we recognize that, we create the psychological safety for honesty in the future.

Third, get curious. Ask one question that helps you understand what they saw, heard, or experienced. Stay out of defending your intent and lean into understanding their reality. For example: “Can you say a bit more about what you noticed in that moment?” or “What impact did that have for you?”

Then, thank them for their feedback.

Lastly, and this is the part most people miss: reflect. Take time after the conversation to sit with it. Consider what might be true, even if it’s only partially true. Look for patterns, examples, and evidence of what others might be seeing that you’re not.

Reflect on these questions:

• What part of this feedback felt most uncomfortable, and why?

• What story did I start telling myself about what this means about me?

• What pieces might be valid here, even if I don’t fully agree?

• Where have I seen a version of this before?

• If I took this seriously, what would I experiment with doing differently?

After your reflection, take some time to close the loop. Let the person know what you took from the conversation and what you’re thinking about doing with their feedback. This builds trust and reinforces that their voice matters.

Try this once this week. Not perfectly, just deliberately. That’s where the shift starts.

If this surfaced a blind spot, or you want to deepen your relationship to feedback, 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.

DEVELOPING YOUR BULLSH*T DETECTOR: Cutting Through Hype, Jargon, and Polished Nonsense in 2025

“Revolutionary! Transformative!! Game-changing!!!” If you hear those words in the first five minutes of a pitch, your inner alarm bell should be ringing. We’ve all sat through those pitches. The buzzwords fly, the slides look amazing, and for a moment you catch yourself nodding along. But jargon doesn’t equal substance.

Leaders at WeWork once talked about “elevating the world’s consciousness,” while selling what was essentially office space with free beer. Investors bought the story, not the fundamentals, and the company’s $47-billion valuation evaporated almost overnight. Even smart executives can get dazzled by shiny language and big promises. That is why developing a BS detector is not a luxury in 2025; it is a leadership survival skill.

A MAGICAL METAPHOR TO REMEMBER

Think of a magician’s sleight of hand. The flourish distracts your eyes while the real trick happens elsewhere. Corporate spin works the same way. A charismatic founder’s over-hyped vision, a glossy report with flawless graphics and no meat, or an “innovation lab” demo of the best case scenario can all act like the magician’s flourish. They dazzle us so we don’t notice what is missing: evidence, substance, or common sense.

WHY OUR BRAINS GET FOOLED

Neuroscience offers some clues as to why BS is so effective at sneaking past smart people.

• Halo effect: When something looks polished, we assume it must also be competent. The brain’s shortcut is ‘shiny equals credible’.

• Amygdala and certainty: Under stress, our amygdala is activated, and we crave certainty. A slick answer feels like relief from the stress, even if it is hollow.

• Dopamine hits: Novelty lights up our reward system, giving us a rush that feels like progress. “New and improved” is rocket fuel for our brains.

• Social proof: If others nod along, our reward system pushes us to conform. Our need to belong can trump our instinct to question.

This is why entire boards, investment funds, and senior leadership teams can all walk straight into illusions without a single person stopping to ask, “Wait, does this actually make sense?”

FIVE FILTER QUESTIONS

To cut through the illusion, try this lens:

1. What evidence supports this claim?

2. How would it work in practice, not just theory?

3. What problem does it actually solve?

4. Who benefits most if we do this?

5. If it fails, what is Plan B?

Asking even one of these questions often changes the entire conversation. Suddenly the flourish disappears, and the real substance is revealed.

CULTURAL RELEVANCE

Robert Cialdini’s research on persuasion shows how the halo effect can blind us to flaws in logic. And Daniel Kahneman’s work on decision fatigue is clear: we stop asking clarifying questions when our mental energy is low.

History is littered with cautionary tales. Nikola Motors once released a video of its zero-emission truck cruising down a highway. The catch: it was rolling downhill with no powertrain. Investors believed the story, and the company briefly hit a $30-billion valuation before reality set in. Nikola is a reminder that polish and storytelling can deceive even the most seasoned executives.

And there’s no shortage of examples: Juicero raised over $100 million for a Wi-Fi-connected juicer, only for customers to discover they could squeeze the juice packs by hand; Theranos promised hundreds of blood tests from a single drop, fooling investors and board members across multiple industries; and FTX was once valued at $32 billion before collapsing into one of the biggest financial frauds in recent history.

Each case shows how leaders can be seduced by big promises and polished delivery, only to see their budgets and credibility evaporate when the truth emerges.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Practice: The Clarity Filter

Doing:
In your next three meetings, ask at least one of the five filter questions listed above. Write down what shifted in the conversation when you did.

What to Notice:

• What shifts in the energy of the room after you ask the question

• How the explanation of the idea evolves once it was explored more deeply?

• People’s body language or tone, and what new perspective it can give you about their level of confidence or conviction

Reflection Questions:

1. What surprised me about how people responded to my question?

2. How did the question change the conversation in ways I did not expect?

3. What did I learn about the strength, relevance, or practicality of the idea being discussed?

4. What does this tell me about my own comfort with disrupting group consensus?

We don’t need to become cynical skeptics, but in a world where polish is cheap and empty promises are plentiful, we do need sharper questions.

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

WHEN TYPE BECOMES STEREOTYPE: The Problem with Over-Generalized Labels

“I start tuning out when type becomes stereotype.” That line came from my fellow Integral Master Coach, Michael Lamberti, during a recent exchange we had on LinkedIn, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. In his post, Michael noted that some psychometrics teachers make irresponsible generalizations about their tools. And he’s right. I attended a workshop where a teacher told us that a certain personality type only had half of their emotions to work with. It made me roll my eyes so hard I could see my brain.

Personality frameworks and psychometric tools can be game-changing in leadership development, but when type turns into stereotype, we stop seeing the human being in front of us. It’s like mistaking a rough sketch for a finished painting. And when frameworks are distilled down too far, they risk becoming little more than an over-generalized sketch of the individual.

I’ve seen it happen in my work with teams, too. Someone reads their Enneagram Type 7 description to the group, and everyone around them assumes they must be the extroverted life of the party. A leader is tagged as an Insights “Cool Blue,” so the unspoken expectation is that they’ll be meticulous, logical, and great at budgets. Or someone is identified as a Myers-Briggs 'ENTJ,' and the stereotype is that they’ll automatically be a bold, take-charge executive. The problem is that these shorthand labels can blind us to a richer sense of a person's wiring: their values, communication preferences, decision-making styles, quirks, blind spots, limiting beliefs, assumptions, and untapped strengths. When we collapse someone down to the boilerplate description of a single 'type', we miss the richer, more complex portrait right in front of us.

THE DANGER OF ONE-DIMENSIONAL LABELS

Psychometric tools have enormous value. I use them frequently in designing coaching programs to meet my clients where they are, and to help me calibrate our live 1:1 coaching sessions. These tools can shine a light on how we process information, what motivates us, and how we’re wired under stress. But even when we make use of all the rich and robust aspects of a single psychometric model, it still offers just one window into a person. To see someone fully, we need to look through multiple lenses, each revealing different aspects of who they are and how they show up.

The danger comes when we let that single lens define the person. A DISC “C” detail-oriented leader may not actually be strong at planning or follow-through. An “influencing” style might not guarantee charisma or natural leadership. Labelling in this way becomes lazy shorthand and robs us of the deeper nuances of the real, evolving human sitting across from us. This is often how stereotypes are born: each of these psychometric tools has robust depth, with multiple layers of nuance and insight, but when people only memorize or repeat the surface-level summary, the richness is lost, and a flat stereotype takes its place.

This isn’t a new problem. Research on personality assessments has long cautioned against treating results as static or predictors of success. These tools reveal tendencies and preferences, not absolutes. And yet, I still hear leaders in meetings say things like: “Oh, she’s an Insights Yellow, she’ll love this project,” or “He’s an Enneagram 9, so conflict will always be hard for him,” or “Her Myers-Briggs ‘I’ is too high to be successful in that role.” That’s not development; that’s stereotyping.

WHY A DASHBOARD IS BETTER THAN A SINGLE GAUGE

Think about the dashboard in your car. When going on a road trip, you wouldn’t rely only on the speedometer and ignore the fuel gauge, oil pressure, or engine lights. Understanding people (and ourselves) also requires us to pay attention to a dashboard of indicators.

Here’s what that looks like in practice:

• Psychometrics give you a single lens on patterns and preferences.

• Feedback (formal and informal) gives you an external lens.

• Self-observation exercises looking for patterns and behaviours adds a third.

• Context and environment matter too; how someone shows up can shift depending on culture, stress, and team dynamics.

• Values and motivators offer another gauge, revealing what drives someone beneath the surface.

• Experimentation shows you what happens when you try something new, then reflect on the gap between what you expected and what actually happened.

• Coaching conversations, 360s, and stretch assignments each add data points to your dashboard.

The more gauges you can read, the more accurate your navigation becomes. Lean on just one, and you may think you’re cruising along safely, while in reality you’re going to run out of fuel in 20 kilometers.

MICHAEL LAMBERTI ON THE ENNEAGRAM

This is where I circle back to Michael’s terrific work with the Enneagram, a tool that, when used to its full depth, can surface profound insights about motivation and growth edges. It’s one of the most accurate and robust psychometric tools out there. But his caution is the same as mine: reducing people to stereotypes does them a tremendous disservice. If you’re curious to go deeper into the Enneagram and its applications for leadership, I encourage you to check out Michael Lamberti’s offerings on Substack and LinkedIn. He’s an excellent resource.

SO WHAT SHOULD LEADERS DO?

If you’re a leader using psychometric results to guide development, here’s my invitation:

• Treat assessments as conversation starters, not finish lines.

• Resist the urge to let a label explain away deeper nuances or complexity.

• Stay curious about contradictions: the “introvert” who loves public speaking, the “detail person” who thrives in chaos.

Your team is made up of multi-layered, surprising, sometimes contradictory human beings. Honour that complexity. When type becomes stereotype, you stop seeing potential. But when type is just one gauge on a broader dashboard, you get a far truer picture of the leader – and the person – in front of you.

And when it comes to your own development, choose a coach who works with multiple lenses. A one-dimensional coaching approach will give you a single rough sketch of yourself, which may or may not be useful. The most effective coaches bring in a variety of perspectives and lenses. In Integral Coaching, for example, we look through six interwoven lenses and more than 20 sub-lenses that explore different dimensions of a client’s way of being. Executive coaching then adds further angles such as live observation, feedback, and triangulation with the client’s leader, reflection on developmental objectives, and real-world experimentation. Together, this layered approach offers a far more complete picture of who someone is and how they can grow.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

This week, make it a practice to notice when you or others fall into shorthand labelling. Each time you hear someone say, “She’s a Yellow,” or “He’s so Type 8,” pause and treat it as a piece of data – but not the whole story. Your challenge is to experiment with the mindset that ‘people are layered, dynamic, and evolving’ in your daily interactions.

Here’s how:

1. Observe one colleague through the lens you normally use, and label them. For example, my go-to lens is the Enneagram, so I would choose a person, and label them with what I think is their Ennea-type (E7w6).

2. Now, look at that colleague through at least three different lenses (eg: their behaviour under stress, their underlying motivators, their communication style, their values, their interpersonal skills, the cultural or team context they’re operating within, their internal mindset or state, and the systems or structures influencing them). These additional perspectives reflect the inner world, outer behaviour, relationships, and environment, all shaping who someone is and how they show up.

3. Journal a brief reflection: What were the built-in assumptions you made when you first typed them? What additional insights came when you looked again through additional lenses? Where did your assumptions limit your ability to see them fully before?

4. Next, try a small experiment in a conversation with this person: frame a question that draws out the very differences you noticed in your reflection. For example, if you assumed they were detail-oriented but discovered they are more motivated by big picture impact, ask what outcomes feel most meaningful to them. If you assumed they avoid conflict but saw signs of strongly held values under pressure, ask what principles guide them when the stakes are high. Pay attention to how their answers confirm, challenge, or expand your assumptions, and consider how you might adjust your approach to meet them where they actually are, rather than where you thought they were.

People are never one-dimensional. They are shaped by inner states, observable behaviours, relationships, and environments. When you consciously widen your view, you start to see the whole layered painting rather than just the roughly sketched outline.

If you’d like support building your own dashboard of lenses and experimenting with them in real life, reach out for a free exploratory conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com. I’d love to be your coach.