I recently learned that something I said in a professional setting didn’t land the way I intended.
It wasn’t the message that missed.
It was my tone.
And the hardest part?
I didn’t see it at the time.
In my mind, I was offering insight. Passionate, honest feedback from someone deeply committed to the mission. But to some, it came across as harsh. Maybe even dismissive. That realization didn’t hit until someone I trust pulled me aside and told me, gently but truthfully, how it had been received.
That’s a punch to the gut when you care as much as I do. When you believe in something deeply and you think you’re showing up as a team player—only to discover that your delivery may have created more distance than connection.
But here’s the truth I keep learning over and over again:
Intent doesn’t always equal impact.
You can have the best heart in the world. You can be completely aligned with the cause, completely devoted to the people, and still deliver your message in a way that causes harm—or at the very least, misunderstanding. And when that happens, you don’t get to say, “Well, that’s not what I meant,” and walk away. That’s not leadership. That’s not growth. That’s ego.
What I’ve come to understand is that communication isn’t just about what we say. It’s about how it lands in the hearts and minds of the people receiving it. Research in the field of organizational psychology shows that tone and delivery influence perception just as much—if not more—than content. According to a Stanford study, when feedback is framed with warmth and care, even critical messages are more likely to be accepted and acted upon. In contrast, the same feedback delivered bluntly can trigger defensiveness and shut people down completely.
I’ve been on both ends of that exchange. I’ve been the one wounded by someone else’s tone, and now I’ve been the one whose tone unintentionally wounded others. Neither side feels good.
And yet, there’s growth in this mess. There’s grace in being willing to hear how you’ve been perceived and sitting with the discomfort that comes with that knowledge. I’ve had to look at myself, not just through my own lens but through the eyes of others. And while I still stand firmly behind the content of what I said, I also take full responsibility for how I said it. That’s a tough balance to strike—holding onto your truth while acknowledging the way it may have been distorted by tone.
This experience didn’t break me, but it did bend me. It softened some of my edges. It reminded me that leadership isn’t about being right. It’s about being effective. And sometimes, effectiveness requires an edit—not of your values, not of your beliefs, but of your delivery.
So if you’ve ever had that moment where you thought you were helping, only to find out you may have hurt someone instead, I get it. It’s gutting. But don’t run from it. Learn from it. Let it make you better. Let it tune your ear and sharpen your empathy. Let it be the reason you lead with both your voice and your heart.
We won’t always get it right. But we can always get better.
And I’ll take better over perfect, every time.
To the disrupters:
Keep showing up. Keep speaking up.
Even when it’s messy. Even when it’s misunderstood.
Because real change never comes from silence.
Disruption isn’t about being loud. It’s about being willing.
Willing to question. Willing to reflect.
Willing to adjust without backing down from what matters.
Keep doing the hard work of making things better—one conversation, one moment of humility, and yes, even one misstep at a time.
We need you.
