The Art of Receiving Feedback Without Pulling Out the Knives
Got some less-than-glowing feedback today, and let’s just say it had "I copied this straight out of ChatGPT" written all over it.
When a prospective client grilled me on my resume—interpreting normal corporate restructuring and bankruptcies (hello, Boston Market) as mysterious gaps—I didn't gloss it over. I explained the reality: private equity, reorganizations, and a corporate addiction to finding someone to blame when things break. The verdict? They loved my personality and the "tenderness" I’d bring to the team, but weren't sure my background fit.
Old me would have peacocked, thrown a fit, and gotten my hackles all the way up. Current me? I took a breath. Do I lead with softness and grace all the time? Fuck no. Do I try? Amen.
The Corporate Blame Game
We live in a professional Thunderdome where everyone wants everything five minutes ago, and when timelines slip, panic sets in. The corporate reflex is to treat a broken process like a personal moral failing.
Feedback gets weaponized instead of used as a map. If something’s broken, it doesn't mean someone needs to be publicly dissected; it just means we need to look at the deadlines, drop the panic, and fix the pipe.
Meanwhile, at Home...
Of course, zen professional composure doesn't always survive domestic life. Case in point: Jonathan critiquing why the yoga mats were "in the middle of the yard" (they were safely tucked by the rose bush airing out after sunflower yoga) and asking if I "even tried" to find dog treats (after I drove to two different, entirely wiped-out Costcos).
Nobody wants a partner coming at them like they're starring in a slasher flick over chores and canine snacks. Negative, sharp-edged framing at home stings just as much as it does in the boardroom.
Whether you’re dealing with a skeptical client using AI interview prompts or defending your yoga mat placement, the takeaway is simple: under-promise, over-deliver, and refuse to let the fear of blame run the show. Drop the knives, keep the humor, and remember that a little tenderness goes a long way.
