Putting on a brave face is something of a family specialty. It’s an approach that’s got me through a lot, so after a trio of close bereavements in five months, I tried it again.
Every morning I got up and showed up for the team with coffee in hand and a smile on my face, shepherding them through every problem and curveball. As a leader, I anticipated, delivered, and succeeded. But as a person? Not so much.
The mountain of pain and grief behind that “brave face” was still there, waiting. It was only when I slowed down—and for a while I stopped altogether—that I faced it and started figuring it out.
You can't turn your healing into a project
As a leader you’re adept at solving problems and getting shit done. So it’s understandable that you might want to compartmentalise your pain as another thing to manage.
Your pain and healing isn’t just another project. You can’t schedule it for the weekend. You can’t timebox it or give it a deadline.
Healing takes as long as it takes, and it first requires your humility and vulnerability.
Survival mode is a short-term strategy only
Hunkering down in survival mode got me through those first months, allowing me to split the little energy I had between work and family. I did what I needed to, but I knew there was hard and messy work to come.
The longer you stay in survival mode or push away the pain, you’ll become more closed off and lose more of yourself. As a leader, it means struggling to connect with your team, losing your sense of direction, and risking burnout or breakdown.
So while survival mode can be what gets you through and is sometimes the only choice you can make, know that it can only be for the short-term.
Let (some) people know
Pain requires brave and honest communication with yourself first of all, but no man’s an island.
I let a couple of people at work know as well as a couple of friends and my regular gaming buddies. I felt like these were the people who ought to know that I’d be off my game and needed to adapt what I do or how I do it.
Turns out this is a skill in itself. First time, my voice cracked as I spoke the words and I didn’t really know what I was asking for or expecting. After each bereavement I got better at it. (But for now I’m as good as I want to be at that, thanks.)
Who you let in and who you inform depends on the pain you’re experiencing of course, but:
- Don’t tell the whole world. Pain is personal, and it’s more helpful to invite one or two people who matter instead of broadcasting your pain to all and sundry.
- Don’t overshare. There can be an urge to let others know you’re in pain, but oversharing with a colleague or spilling it all out when your barista asks how you’re doing isn’t the way.
- Say what you need. If you need to step back at work, want time for yourself, or need a new kind of support, say it.
You need to let go of who you’ve been
If you cling to the past or refuse to evolve beyond the person you were yesterday, you’ll always be pushing that pain away and you’ll always be stuck.
Or to put it another way—you cannot metabolise the pain you’ve experienced until you let go of the version of you who hadn’t yet experienced it.
This might mean recognising that the priorities, assumptions, values or leadership style you had before the pain no longer fit or work for you as they used to. This shift has a ripple effect too—allowing you to lead with more authenticity and build more trust and respect in those you work with.
Bottom line—the pain we accept and embrace shapes who we become.
Let it teach you
Accepting and integrating pain helps you become a a wiser, more compassionate self, which doesn’t just make you a more rounded person, it makes you a better leader.
More empathy for team mates, employees, peers and customers. Light shone into what used to be blind-spots or assumptions. Fresh ways to make human-first decisions. Deeper connection to the values that will guide you. Improved EQ and team dynamics.
For me, a big part of it meant revisiting what I took for granted—pausing to check what I might have overlooked or brushed over, and looking for how I might deepen or nurture my connection with someone.
Pain changes you
Pain will change you. Whether you resist it or allow it in determines if you evolve or stay stuck. Embracing this transformation is the hardest—and most rewarding—work of our lives.