Not long ago, I was brought in to work with an executive who had a problem he couldn’t see clearly, though everyone around him could. I almost declined. When coaching is assigned rather than chosen, resistance usually follows, and resistance rarely leads to real change. This individual, though, understood something important: doing the work wasn’t optional if he wanted to continue growing his career in this organization.
His CEO described it as “a brand problem.” When we met, he acknowledged that his relationships with peers weren’t where he wanted them to be. As I began interviewing those peers, key stakeholders, and direct reports, one theme surfaced again and again: he didn’t listen. There was no real dialogue. He believed he was collaborative. The people around him experienced him as competitive.
When there is that much distance between how we see ourselves and how others experience us, it warrants exploration.
This is the quiet danger of cognitive dissonance. When the feedback we receive doesn’t align with the story we carry about ourselves, our instinct is to reject it. We decide the source isn’t credible, the timing was off, or the other person simply misunderstood us. And if we’re talented and successful, we have plenty of evidence to support our own version of the story. But here’s what that instinct costs us: the gift of seeing the impact we are having on others.
One piece of critical feedback is easy to explain away. But when the same message comes from peers, direct reports, and stakeholders who have different relationships with you, different vantage points, different agendas? It becomes harder to dismiss. That’s a pattern, and the pattern is pointing back to you.
The executive had heard versions of this feedback before. What was new was his willingness to stop explaining it away and start getting curious about it. That shift, from defending to exploring, is where the real work begins.
The work starts with going back to the people who shared the feedback, not to defend or clarify, but to listen more deeply. It requires understanding where the behavior comes from and what it has been costing you. And it requires the humility to acknowledge to the people around you that you are working to address the behavior and to invite their feedback along the way. That last step is the one most people skip. It feels vulnerable. But it’s also what makes the change visible, and signals to others that you are serious.
He did the work. It wasn’t linear, and it wasn’t fast. But over time, the feedback shifted. So did his relationships.
If you’ve been receiving feedback that doesn’t sit right with you, I’d invite you to pause before dismissing it. Is this the first time you’ve heard something like this? Is there more than one source? The gap between who we think we are and how others experience us is not a verdict. It’s an invitation.