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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHEN FREEDOM MEANT PROVING SOMETHING

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

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

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

That version of freedom is exhausting.

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

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

FREEDOM AS DISCERNMENT, NOT DISENGAGEMENT

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

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

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

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

WHAT FREEDOM LOOKS LIKE NOW

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

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

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

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

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE COST OF NON-REFLECTION

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

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

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

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHY THIS MATTERS

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

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

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

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

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

THE OVERLOAD PROBLEM

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

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

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

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

THE NEUROSCIENCE OF RESISTANCE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHAT AUTHENTIC INFLUENCE LOOKS LIKE NOW

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

HOW TO MANAGE SIGNAL VERSUS NOISE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

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

COACHING PRACTICE: Reset Your Influence Filter

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE MIDLIFE PIVOT: Redefining Ambition in the Second Act

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

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

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

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

THE MYTH OF LINEAR SUCCESS

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

Except that often, it doesn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE IDENTITY RECKONING

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

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

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

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

REIMAGINING AMBITION

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

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

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

HOW COACHING HELPS LEADERS NAVIGATE THE PIVOT

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

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

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

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE: “WRITE YOUR FUTURE BIO”

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE DOWNSIDE OF RESILIENCE: When to Call ‘Uncle’ and Move On

We celebrate resilience like it’s an Olympic sport. 'Bouncing back', 'pushing through', and 'grinding away' all sound noble, but at some point, determination turns into stubbornness, and perseverance starts to work against us.

Leaders are often praised for their ability to endure the tough stuff (and we're all dealing with some really tough stuff these days, aren't we?) But the longer we’re rewarded for holding the line, the harder it becomes to recognise when the line has moved.

A STORY FROM THE COACHING ROOM

I was fortunate to work with a Director a few years ago who was leading her team through a bold (read: complex and unpopular) transformation mandate. For months, she pushed herself and her people relentlessly to get on board with the process and mindset shifts needed to make it work. When some of her peers showed signs of resistance or slowing down, she dug in even harder. As the organizational changes took shape, she was in the thick of merging teams and shifting headcount, as her span of control broadened. And like a good soldier, she absorbed all of the extra work and kept pushing for more.

At our coaching session, I asked her what mindset was driving her ‘digging in’ behaviour, and she said proudly, “I am modelling resilience for everyone around me.”

By the end of that year, a clear had pattern emerged: after a round of planned headcount reductions, some of her best employees also chose to leave, and the ones who remained were scared, disengaged, and tired. And she hadn’t taken a proper break in over a year herself! This wasn’t about demonstrating resilience anymore; she was unintentionally modelling depletion and martyrdom.

Her a-ha moment came during a triangulation meeting with me and her VP. While we were reviewing her employee engagement survey results, her VP commented, “We admire your stamina, but your team is running on fumes.” She told me afterward that, in that moment, she felt a hot wave of recognition wash over her as she realized that her definition of resilience was in fact just a marathon of sacrificial endurance for its own sake.

NAMING THE SHIFT

This is the moment where resilience starts to change shape. It is the shift from a healthy ability to adapt under stress to an overextended state where our brains and bodies begin to pay a hidden cost. Neuroscience helps explain what happens when persistence becomes counterproductive, and how our wiring pushes us to keep going even when it’s time to stop. These next three ideas reveal why that happens, and what it costs us if we ignore the signs.

• Stress physiology: Chronic exposure to stress hormones like cortisol impairs the hippocampus, the part of the brain that regulates flexibility and learning. Bruce McEwen’s research on allostatic load shows that over time, the body and mind pay a biological price for constant adaptation.

• Sunk-cost bias and reward circuitry: Once we have invested time or resources, classic sunk-cost bias kicks in, and even our reward circuits can make disengaging feel costly. Behavioral economist Daniel Kahneman and others have explored how these biases compel us to stay the course even when logic says “cut losses.”

• Cognitive narrowing: Under sustained stress, the prefrontal cortex shifts into survival mode, favoring short-term fixes and repetitive behaviors instead of creative problem-solving.

The irony is that leaders under prolonged stress often become less adaptable, the very opposite of what resilience was supposed to achieve.

WHEN RESILIENCE TURNS INTO RIGIDITY

Resilience becomes counterproductive when it crosses the invisible line from resourcefulness to resistance.

• Fighting sunk costs: “We’ve invested too much to stop now” becomes a badge of honour.

• Over-functioning: Leaders take on more and more to keep things afloat, unintentionally teaching their teams to rely on them.

• Modelling burnout: Teams mirror what they see. When leaders glorify endurance, employees learn that exhaustion equals commitment.

• Avoiding change: Perseverance turns into attachment to the familiar. “This is how we’ve always done it” starts to sound like leadership wisdom.

Organizational psychologist Barry Staw first described this pattern as escalation of commitment, and it has been widely popularized by several thought leaders, including Adam Grant. The message is clear: the longer we persist, the harder it becomes to admit that persistence itself might be the problem.

A TALE OF TWO COMPANIES

In the early 2000s, Kodak epitomized corporate resilience. It survived countless market shifts over a century by doubling down on what it knew best: film. The company even invented the first digital camera in 1975 and buried it. Why? Because the business model of selling film was too entrenched to abandon. Resilience had hardened into rigidity.

By contrast, Netflix faced similar uncertainty when DVD rentals began to decline. Instead of doubling down on its original model, it bet on streaming and later, original content. The difference wasn’t intelligence or resources; it was psychological flexibility.

Leaders who treat resilience as an identity often cling to what worked before. Leaders who treat it as a tool know when to put it down.

CULTURAL RESEARCH

The World Health Organization officially classified burnout as an occupational phenomenon in 2019, defining it as “chronic workplace stress that has not been successfully managed.”

Canadian data show sustained strain. In May 2024, one third of Canadian workers were in a high mental-health risk category, underscoring the real cost of endurance without recovery. Yet in leadership programs and performance reviews, “resilience” remains one of the most celebrated traits.

Maybe it’s time we stopped glorifying it and started interrogating it.

THE NEUROSCIENCE OF RECOVERY

Recovery isn’t weakness; it’s recalibration.

• Rest and neuroplasticity: Sleep and rest restore the prefrontal cortex’s ability to integrate complex data and manage emotional regulation.

• Emotional regulation: Activities like mindfulness, music, and physical exercise reduce amygdala hyperactivity and reset attention systems.

• Perspective shifting: Downtime activates the brain’s default network, which supports perspective shifting, creativity, empathy, and strategic insight.

Leaders who build recovery into their rhythm are not “less driven.” They are creating the mental conditions for adaptability, the real heart of resilience.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Practice: Persistence or Rigidity?

Doing:
Identify one initiative you are holding onto mainly out of persistence. Define three signals that would justify pivoting or letting go and share them with a trusted peer or mentor.

What to Notice:

• What emotions surface when I imagine stepping back from this initiative?

• Do my reasons for continuing come from purpose, pride, or fear of loss?

• How does my team respond when I talk about this work, with energy or fatigue?

Reflection Questions:

1. What assumptions am I holding onto tightly that no longer serve?

2. What would it take to release this project with grace and redirect energy elsewhere?

3. Who could give me honest feedback on whether it is time to pivot?

4. What might become possible if I stopped equating resilience with endurance?

True resilience is not about bouncing back or enduring more... it’s about knowing when to bend, when to rest, and when to pivot and move on with intention.  It’s the wisdom and courage to release what no longer serves.

Reach out for a free exploratory Executive Coaching conversation. Email: leslierohonczy@live.com

SILENT DEALBREAKERS: Invisible Habits That Kill Your Leadership Brand

You can deliver flawless results and still stall your career. You can ace the big presentation and still erode trust. You can check every box on the leadership competency list and still be overlooked. Why? Because invisible habits can quietly chip away at your credibility, until they become silent dealbreakers.

A STORY CLOSE TO HOME

Years ago, I was the Director of IT Strategy at one of Canada’s Crown corporations. One of my peers, who I considered a good friend, pulled me aside after I presented to the executive team and said, “Leslie, do you realise you often end your thoughts with, ‘Does that make sense?’ It’s killing your credibility a little bit each time.” I was so surprised! I had no idea I was doing it. To me, it just seemed like a friendly, humble way to check in, but in reality, it was diluting my voice, and making it sound like I was doubting myself, or worse, doubting my audience’s ability to follow along.

Within weeks of paying attention to that little phrase and what was driving it, I was able to drop the habit. Mostly. (Full disclosure, it still creeps into my conversations now and then... does that make sense?) And something unexpected happened as a result: I noticed others leaning in more, opening up to me in new ways, asking me to expand on my points, trusting me with their difficult issues.

THE PERCEPTION GAP

Tasha Eurich’s research in Harvard Business Review found that while 95% of people believe they are self-aware, only about 10–15% actually are (HBR, 2018). In fact, many leaders significantly overestimate how positively they are perceived by their peers, and more than half of us assume we are coming across stronger than we are. This perception gap is where silent dealbreakers thrive.

We have perception gaps because people often feel uncomfortable pointing out our weaknesses or blind spots. It’s not often that someone and has our back enough to tell us, “Hey, your hedging language is eroding trust.” Instead, they keep that valuable information to themselves, affecting their perception of us, and that’s going to have an impact: a peer stops inviting you into early-stage brainstorming because they sense hesitation; a direct report chooses not to share an innovative idea with you because they’re unsure how you’ll respond; a board member wonders why you don’t speak with more conviction; a client feels less trust in you with the bigger piece of their business.

This pattern is rarely named. But you will feel the consequences later; the missed opportunities, the roles or projects that quietly go to someone else, the sense that your influence is not growing at the pace it should.

THE BRAIN’S ROLE IN MICRO-MOMENTS

Since I’m a neuroscience factoid junkie, let’s unpack a few principles to understand how our brain signals can betray us, what silent signals it monitors, and why small habits matter so much.

• Mirror neurons: These fire when we observe behaviour in others. If you appear disengaged, colleagues unconsciously mirror it, and the whole room’s energy drops.

• Amygdala sensitivity: The amygdala, our threat-detection system, is highly attuned to incongruence. If you promise something and then fail to follow through, others’ trust circuits register it as a red flag.

• Prefrontal fatigue: Our prefrontal cortex tires quickly, especially under stress. That’s when we slip into filler language, avoidance, or multitasking. Others notice these lapses, even when we’re unaware of them.

• Oxytocin and trust: Oxytocin is a chemical released in our brains and bodies during positive, consistent social interactions. It supports bonding, reliability, and connection. When our behaviour feels inconsistent or unpredictable, the social signals that trigger oxytocin are disrupted, and people feel less inclined to trust us deeply.

These insights matter because they explain why small, often invisible behaviours carry so much weight. Your brain’s signals are constantly broadcasting cues about presence, reliability, and congruence, and everyone else’s brains are tuned to receive them. That’s why the micro-moments you think no one notices can shape the story people tell about your leadership. Understanding what drives those signals gives you the power to recalibrate them intentionally, before they become silent dealbreakers.

A WATCH LIST OF INVISIBLE HABITS

Here are a few examples of the most common silent dealbreakers I see in coaching leaders:

• Hedging language: “I might be wrong, but…” (which is similar to my old ‘Does that make sense’ line). It was said by a senior VP in a merger meeting. His team later stopped fighting for his ideas because he didn’t sound confident in them.

• Dropping commitments: A Director who routinely promised to “circle back tomorrow” but rarely did. Her reliability rating tanked with the other Directors in her group, even though she saw herself as responsive.

• Unintentional interrupting: An executive who habitually cut people off mid-sentence thought he was helping the conversation to move along faster (his communication style preference). His team described him as dismissive and over-bearing.

• Being physically present but mentally elsewhere: A leader in a hybrid meeting who often answered text messages while her team presented their project updates. Employees stopped tracking their progress, which created an unnecessary risk to the team’s key projects. “Why bother, if she is not listening?”

• Inconsistent tone: A VP who alternated between being approachable one week and grumpy the next. People stopped confiding in him because they never knew which version they would get, and his unpredictability felt risky.

CULTURAL RESEARCH

Gallup’s State of the Global Workplace 2023 found that employees are nearly four times more likely to be engaged when leaders consistently follow through on their promises. Consistency, even in small commitments like returning a call when promised, matters more than grand gestures.

And it turns out that reliability is a stronger predictor of engagement than charisma or vision. A Deloitte Insights survey on trust in leadership (2022) reported that 79% of employees who viewed their leaders as reliable also rated their organisations as “highly engaging places to work.”

Research from the Center for Creative Leadership has also shown that leaders who demonstrate behavioural consistency are rated significantly higher in effectiveness by both peers and direct reports. Those small patterns, like showing up prepared, or keeping one’s word, compound into reputational capital.

Put together, the message is clear that organisations reward leaders who eliminate silent dealbreakers. Reliability is not just a personal virtue; it is cultural currency.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Spot Your Silent Dealbreakers

Doing:
For the next week, ask two trusted colleagues to observe you in meetings and interactions. Invite them to share one or two small habits that might unintentionally dilute your credibility (hedging language, inconsistent tone, multitasking, etc.). Choose one of these habits and commit to experimenting with it for seven days.

What to Notice:

• How often does the habit show up when you are under stress or pressed for time?

• What changes in the energy of the room when you catch yourself and shift?

• Do colleagues respond differently when you deliver a point with clarity instead of hedging, or when you follow through consistently?

Reflection Questions:

1. Which micro-habit surfaced most often this week, and do you notice any themes or patterns?

2. What impact did you observe in others’ responses when you shifted it?

3. How did it feel internally to hold yourself differently?

4. What would it take to make this shift sustainable?

5. Which other micro-habit might be worth experimenting with next?

This practice is not about eliminating every habit at once. It is about raising awareness and testing whether small, consistent shifts create visible changes in how others experience you.

 Your leadership brand is not built in keynotes or strategy decks. It is built in micro-moments. The question is, are your moments compounding your credibility or eroding it?

If you’re interested in executive coaching to help you address your silent deal-breakers, reach out for a free exploratory conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com.

I BELONG HERE: Build Confidence by Shifting from 'Guest' To 'Host'

Your heart is racing, your palms are clammy, and all the right words seem to be missing in action. Sitting at a table full of senior leaders, waiting for your turn to speak, you feel like a guest at a fancy party: not quite dressed for the occasion, unsure if anyone knows your name, polite and tentative, careful not to spill the wine. All the while, that familiar whisper rises inside you: Do I belong here?

We all know this moment. I’ve coached many executives and senior leaders who’ve felt it too. The irony is that it shows up most often when we’ve already earned our seat: we got the promotion, the board role, the invitation to join the executive table. What's with that?

The bad news: that whisper may never fully go away.
The good news: you get to decide how to respond to it.

FROM GUEST TO HOST

That feeling of belonging doesn’t come from a title, a business card, or a corner office. It’s shaped by your stance at the table, built through the contributions you make once you’re there. Ask yourself in those moments: "Am I showing up as a guest, or as a host?"

I used these powerful metaphors with an executive I coached, who was recently promoted to the Executive team, and who was working on building her confidence. In her first few months, she rarely spoke up. She waited to be asked for her input, believing that restraint would signal professionalism. Instead, her peers interpreted her silence as disengagement or aloofness.

Things began to shift when she started observing herself in action, specifically looking for how she was showing up as a guest, and then intentionally stepping into the role of a host. A guest is tentative, waiting to be invited, careful not to impose. Guests are polite and reactive, hoping not to stand out for the wrong reasons. By contrast, a host sets the tone, sparks conversation, and takes responsibility for creating an experience where everyone feels included. When she began preparing a few thoughtful contributions before executive meetings, she was no longer just occupying a seat. She was shaping the conversation and beginning the shift from guest energy to host energy, and towards her aspirational future state as an executive.

THE CURRENCY OF CONTRIBUTION

Think about the difference between passively taking a seat and actively shaping the table. Holding back, being overly careful about overstepping, or waiting for an invitation can keep us small and safe, but it also keeps us from having real influence.

Leaders who thrive step into their host energy. They don’t just sit at the table, they set it. They frame the conversation, draw others in, and make sure the best ideas get amplified. Hosting isn’t about control, it’s about responsibility. Hosts don’t wait to be asked, they create the conditions where others can flourish.

And here’s the twist: once you step into host energy, belonging stops being only about you. You start generating it for others. When you model confidence, welcome diverse voices, courageously challenge, and guide dialogue with intention, you create a ripple effect of belonging that strengthens the entire room.

FROM WHISPER TO BELONGING

That whisper of “Do I belong here?” probably won’t disappear. But the answer doesn’t come from waiting for reassurance or hoping someone else will validate you. It comes from practice: showing up prepared, contributing consistently, and daring to claim your space. Each time you step into host energy rather than guest energy, you strengthen your confidence and reshape the dynamic around you.

Your confidence will grow in the doing: it's forged when you speak even with shaky hands, when you extend an invitation for others to contribute, when you steady the table instead of waiting for someone else to do it. Those small choices compound into presence, credibility, and trust.

Every time you do, you reinforce a deeper truth: you don’t just belong here. You are actively shaping what “here” becomes for everyone at the table.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

At your next high-stakes meeting, pause and ask yourself: Am I showing up like a guest, or a host?

• If you’re sitting quietly, waiting for the right moment, experiment with contributing earlier: offer an insight, frame a key question, invite opinions, or connect threads others haven’t linked.

• If you usually focus only on your own points, try curating: draw someone else in, amplify a quieter voice, or summarize the room’s emerging consensus.

Notice how these shifts not only change your own sense of belonging but also elevate the experience of everyone at the table.

Because having the confidence to belong isn’t a gift; it’s a practice. And when you practice it well, you won’t just whisper “I belong here.” You’ll embody it and set an example that invites others to do the same.

Reach out for a free exploratory 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.

WHEN CANDOUR BACKFIRES: The Risk of Being “Too Real” At Work

Every leader knows that knot-in-the-stomach feeling before saying something tough. You spot a flaw in the strategy your boss is championing. You need to tell a high performer that their style is alienating the team. Or you’re about to voice the only dissenting view in a room full of nodding heads. These moments test your courage. And they test your skill. Because candour can land like a gift or a gut punch.

WHEN CANDOUR CLOSES DOORS

I once worked with a talented, passionate woman who proudly called herself a “straight-talker.” Her feedback was always honest and never sugar-coated and many colleagues, including me, valued her candour, even if it was sometimes hard to hear. She genuinely believed that being blunt built trust. The problem? Over time, some of her colleagues started describing her as prickly, demanding, and impossible to please. She had strong ideas about what needed to change, but no one wanted to listen. Her accuracy wasn’t the problem. Her delivery was.

That’s what happens when candour is used like a blunt instrument. We think we’re being authentic, but what others hear is harshness or judgment. Instead of opening doors, it slams them shut.

Bravery and bluntness aren’t the same thing. Saying the tough thing in its rawest form isn’t courageous, it’s lazy, and it often triggers defensiveness, sidelining the very point we’re trying to make. When people feel attacked, their stress response kicks in: cortisol spikes, reasoning plummets, and they literally can’t process what we’re saying. The harder we push, the more they resist. Real bravery is being intentional and skilful, delivering the hard truth in ways that keep people open long enough to be able to take it in.

Harvard’s Professor of Leadership Amy Edmondson has shown through her groundbreaking research on psychological safety that people can only absorb tough feedback when they feel safe in the relationship. Neuroscience confirms this: when people feel threatened, cortisol floods the system and reasoning goes offline. Practical tools like the SBI model (Situation–Behaviour–Impact) help ground feedback in specifics, while Kim Scott’s Radical Candor highlights that true candour means challenging directly while caring personally. Used together, these insights show that candour done well strikes a balance that keeps people open rather than defensive.

I once worked with a senior leader at a Canadian non-profit who needed to push back on her board chair’s aggressive expansion plans. Her instinct was to challenge him directly at the next Board meeting, but she understood that would likely create resistance. Instead, she framed her intent around protecting the organisation’s reputation, backed her points with financial data, and raised her deeper leadership concerns privately. The conversation led to a more sustainable plan. No fireworks, no fallout, just progress.

Candour only works if the other person stays open. That means paying attention to how, when, and where you say it. Here are a few ways to do that:

• Frame your intent. Signal why you’re raising the issue. “I want to flag something that could help us avoid risk.” That shifts you from critic to ally, putting you on the same side of the table, looking at the problem together.

• Ground in specifics. Vague feedback invites defensiveness. Concrete examples invite reflection.

• Ask questions. They turn confrontation into collaboration. “What do you think was happening there?” lands differently than “You always interrupt.”

• Pick your stage wisely. Some truths belong in private, not in front of a crowd. If your feedback could cause embarrassment or touches on personal behaviours, it should be delivered one-on-one rather than in a group setting.

• Choose timing with care. At the end of a long day, or during a challenging event, even valid feedback can feel like an attack.

• Balance candour with care. Acknowledge strengths or intentions alongside the tough message.

• Check your motive. Are you trying to help, or just venting? Only the first one builds trust.

• Watch non-verbals. Notice body language and tone to gauge how your message is landing. And don’t assume you’re right. Check in and ask.

WHEN “TOO REAL” IS JUST SELF-INDULGENT

We’ve all heard someone brush off someone’s reaction to their harsh comments with, “I’m just being real.” At first, that sounds admirable. Who doesn’t want authenticity? But “being real” can quickly become careless. If your candour leaves people bruised, blindsided, or frustrated, that’s not candour. That’s self-indulgence. Dumping unfiltered thoughts might clear your conscience, but it won’t build trust.

Real candour is relational in that it makes your message useful for the person receiving it. That means choosing words that invite reflection, balancing critique with acknowledgement of strengths, and checking if the timing will allow the other person to take it in fully. Without this calibration step, “just being real” is just offloading.

TWO SIDES OF THE CANDOUR COIN

One senior leader I coached was working on taking up her full leadership space in her new role on the executive team. She realized that she needed to give her peers feedback that their aversion to risk was stifling innovation. “We’ve always done it this way” had become the default mindset, and any fresh ideas from below were met with suspicion or dismissed as too ‘out there’.

Her instinct at first was to stay quiet, to avoid being labelled as disruptive or reckless. Instead, we focused on carefully preparing her for this crucial conversation. During the executive committee meeting, she clarified her motives and framed her candour as being in service of the organisation’s growth. She highlighted specific missed opportunities and tied them to the organisation’s own goals around customer growth. Because she chose her timing and messaging wisely, her peers stayed open. What could have been dismissed as contrarian turned into a real conversation about risk-friendly, test-and-learn innovation pilots.

Another executive client faced the opposite issue. He had a reputation for sharp wit and “telling it like it is.” His communication style got laughs, but it also made colleagues become guarded around him, nervous at the prospect of becoming his next punchline.

Over time, he realised that his humour was a shield for his own insecurity about being challenged. Jokes let him stay one step ahead of others and avoid vulnerability. Once he understood that pattern, he experimented with softening his delivery, clarifying his intent, and creating space for others to respond. By taking the risk of being more open, he shifted from sarcastic critic to trusted challenger, and his candour started to build, rather than break, relationships.

YOUR COACHING CHALLENGE

Candour is essential for trust, culture, and performance. Without it, leaders become echo chambers. With it, they spark growth, accountability, and innovation. The risk lies in mistaking candour for a licence to say whatever you want, without considering how it will land with others.

Here’s a quick practice that combines courage with care:

1. Identify your audience. Ask yourself: Is this the right audience, and the right moment for them?

2. Check your motive. Are you speaking to help the other person grow, or to clear your own frustration?

3. Frame your intent. Start with why you are raising it, so the other person knows your purpose is constructive.

4. Ground in specifics. Share clear examples of what you saw or heard and describe the impact.

5. Balance with care. Acknowledge a strength or positive intent alongside your challenge.

6. Ask, don’t tell. Invite reflection with a question that keeps the door open.

7. Pair challenge with care. As you raise the hard message, make it clear you respect and value them, and you genuinely care about them.

8. Reflect and revise. Notice what happens: do people lean in and open into conversation, or shut down and disengage? The difference will tell you how skilfully you’ve used candour.

Candour is a leadership skill that can build trust and momentum when used with care, or that can erode relationships when used carelessly. Mastering the art of speaking truth to power with the right amount of candour can be a real career booster when done well. If you want to strengthen your ability to deliver tough truths in ways that keep people open and engaged, executive coaching can help. Reach out for a free exploratory conversation at www.leslierohonczy.com to learn how coaching can support your leadership growth.