The Work of Saying What Matters Without Regret

I’ve spent a good portion of my life trying to figure out how to give feedback without hurting people. And even now, it’s something I still wrestle with. When I hold back, it’s usually because I’m worried the truth will land too hard. I hesitate. I sugarcoat. I wait for the “right” time, which usually never comes. And then later, I regret it—because the silence didn’t help either of us grow.

I think a lot of that has roots in how I was raised. I grew up in a home where feedback was direct, honest, and to the point. It didn’t always leave room for processing or conversation, but I never doubted that it came from a place of care. I don’t think anyone was trying to be harsh. They just wanted to be clear. That was the blueprint they had. And for the most part, it worked for me. I responded to it. I made adjustments. I moved forward. So it became the default.

But over time, I started to realize that not everyone receives feedback the same way. My brothers and I, for example—we’re different people. We interpret things differently. What works for one person might not work for another. And I don’t think that was always accounted for. We were all given the same model, and the assumption was, if it worked before, it would work again. I didn’t say how I felt about it back then. I waited for someone to ask. And that’s something I notice I still do—I wait to be asked instead of offering how I feel.

That realization has changed the way I view feedback—not just how I give it, but how I understand others might need it. And one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that you don’t have to choose between being honest and being kind. You just have to be curious.