Being right about the issue doesn’t mean you handled it right

You know what’s easy?

Hitting it off with someone right away. That natural click. The “oh my god, me too!” moments that make you think you just found your long-lost emotional twin. That’s the fun part — coffee dates, inside jokes, shared frustrations over shared Slack threads.

But the real relationship — the one that actually lasts — usually starts after that.
After the screw-up.
After the letdown.
After the moment when your intent gets lost in translation and someone you respect looks at you differently.

Because it’s in that space — the messy middle between disappointment and decision — where you find out if the relationship was built on convenience or commitment.

My directness — something that I am used to being appreciated — landed differently in a recent communication.

An email I sent outlining project misalignments came across as finger-pointing.
My goal was to highlight communication breakdowns — not blame anyone.
But it didn’t matter.
What mattered was how it felt on the other side.

And in that moment, I realized:

Being right about the issue doesn’t mean you handled it right.

And that realization hit harder than I expected

I’ve spent time reflecting — and honestly, I’m saddened that one poorly framed email can so easily overshadow the great work happening behind the scenes. It’s a tough reminder that perception often carries more weight than intent, and that the way something lands can completely eclipse the results, effort, and collaboration behind it. I care deeply about the work I do and the relationships that make it possible, so it’s hard when a single misstep becomes louder than months of progress.

But maybe that’s the real leadership test — staying grounded, owning the miss, and letting consistent actions rebuild what words couldn’t.

So, I did what you do when you’ve dented trust — I owned it.
I apologized. I clarified. I will intentionally slow down. I will start checking in more intentionally.

I will ask myself before I hit send:
“Does this sound like partnership or posturing?”
“Would I say this the same way if we were sitting in the same room?”

While these aren’t new lessons, they’re powerful reminders of how important it is to stay mindful — mindful of tone, timing, and intent.

• Use meetings for sensitive topics — tone is half the message.

• When you outline a problem, also outline the why and the we.

• Align with your peers first — a united front beats a solo sprint every time.

• And most importantly: repair the moment, don’t replay it — because growth only happens in the present, not in the post-mortem.

Trust me, rebuilding isn’t glamorous.
It’s awkward. It’s humbling. It requires more deep breaths than a yoga retreat.

I’ve learned in life that when both people choose to stay in it — to work through the discomfort, to assume good intent, to actually rebuild instead of walking away — that’s where the foundation sets.

You start to learn each other’s cracks, communication quirks, and sensitivities.
You learn when to pick up the phone instead of typing the email.
You learn when silence says more than words.

And strangely enough — that’s when the relationship becomes unshakable.
Not because it never broke.
But because you both learned how to fix it.

Sometimes the break is just the beginning*

*Thank you to one of my very insightful co-workers who helped me see this.