Feedback is not measured at the speaker’s mouth. It is measured at the listener’s ears.

Perhaps one of the most annoying things I have encountered in my professional life is unsolicited, “well meaning”, advice. That moment when someone cares too little about you to make sure the time is right to offer feedback, but too much about themselves to keep their mouths shut. And disguises “let me tell you how it is or how it is done” under possibly the most annoying words I have heard lately: “I am only thinking about your own good.” Or even worse, “I could not, not say anything.”

The really sucky trap is that most times our “well meaning” colleagues catch us in moments of extreme fatigue, in the middle of a crowded agenda, in between endless meetings, when we have not had anything to eat all day or even made it to the bathroom. And instead of being able to calmly state what is ok and what is not, what we can receive at that particular time and what we cannot, we explode or just freeze because we perceive the interaction as an attack. And the circle is complete: we leave the conversation frustrated, more tired and feeling even lonelier and our wannabe savior is convinced more than ever that they needed to “do something about it” and has therefore fulfilled their mission.

After screaming inside for a while this past week, in the aftermath of such an interaction, and because I truly cannot help replaying (sometimes endlessly) what I should have made of the conversation in my head, I made a note to my future self for the next time. Because if there is one thing I know, it is that there will be a next time. Especially for women (another story, for another time).

If I had a time machine, I would drive back to the moment of my interaction and tell my colleague the following:

I am sure that you are convinced of your good intentions and that you believe you are called to act the way you are. Have you wondered why? Why do you believe you know better? What makes you so sure that you hold the answer in this situation or that, supposing you do, that this is appropriate for you to share your opinion now? Or ever.

Have you considered your biases? The timing of your “intervention”? The question to ask is not “can we have a short chat?” If your intentions are as noble as you make them out to be, you need to start with clarity: “is this a good time for me to offer you feedback on x?” This is the mark of good intentions: you want to offer the feedback that has occurred to you only at the best possible time, making sure that it is best received and has the highest potential of success.

“I could not, not say something,” is not my problem. It is yours. The fact that you have decided you know better, even without a full picture, is not something that I need to suffer through so that you feel righteous. If intentions are truly what you say they are, the words coming out or your mouth should be questions more than answers. “I have noticed that x. I wonder why … .” After all, it is logical that if we listen we might learn something new. If we keep talking, we are simply repeating what we know.

The moment you walk into someone’s day with advice preceded by no wondering or question, you have demonstrated that your internal narrative is that you already know everything about the person in front of you and that you know better. Extremely insulting and deeply disturbing. We so often take what we see of a person to be “the way they are” and feel compelled to offer “well meaning” advice that compromises even moments when that advice might be needed.

It is ok to speak about things you have observed in interactions with me and that have affected you in some way: “I have noticed that x and I would be curious to know y,” or “when you x, I feel y or this is how it is impacting me.” It is not ok to speak to the me about “the way I am,” making assumptions about me that so often are rooted in only your perception of my current exterior, and bares no knowledge of my history and no curiosity for my motives for acting in a certain way.

Writing this, I went back into the conversation and have been once again triggered. And my triggers are always the same: not being seen, being ignored. Because that is entirely possible even when someone is looking directly at and speaking to me.

May we all have the presence of responding to these attacks in the moment, in ways that honor our integrity. May we all be able to place and uphold boundaries (the distance at which we can love others and ourselves at the exact same time).

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