Panic at the intro!
This week was a special week for me, a week of change.
Those who work with me know what I refer to.
I started to be involved in this change process about two weeks ago. Everything went extremely fast from that point on. And this came in addition to an incredibly busy agenda.
Friday was an important day marked by an information session where I was to introduce myself and my coming mission in a new part of the organization.
I did what I could to prepare myself for this important event. I worked late every day for the past two weeks – not only on that. All the speakers knew there was a lot at stake.
As the saying goes, you only have one chance to make a good first impression.
I felt the pressure growing. And to be honest, the combination of all those elements – change, workload, tiredness – got the best of me.
As my colleagues introduced themselves, my turn was slowly approaching. Out of nowhere, the first signs of an acute stress attack appeared. My heart was pumping through my chest, I felt warm, and I started to feel short of breath.
Deep controlled breathing is usually enough to get a hold of my emotions. So, I tried to breathe to calm myself, but the symptoms were only getting stronger.
And then it was my turn to speak.
There was no turning back. As I started to speak, I could hear myself speaking much louder than usual. I started to shake, and I could hear the vibrations in my voice.
All those symptoms just took me over. I was unable to think clearly. I was unable to read my speaking notes in a normal way. Everything was blurry. I was talking to a virtual audience, but it was as if the four hundred participants were all scrutinizing the pain I was going through.
I was in survival mode, finishing my short introduction under apnoea. While trying to read the few lines on the slide legibly, I desperately rushed to end this torture and give the relay to the next speaker.
The second the next speaker started; the symptoms attenuated instantaneously.
I was now struck by a deep wave of shame and angriness about myself.
What just happened? I was supposed to give a confident speech, and it felt as if I not only did exactly the contrary but also as if I let the other speakers down. I was gutted.
As I started to ruminate about what the audience might have perceived about my performance, I decided to break the negative thoughts spiral. There was another session in the afternoon. I could not let that happen again.
We had a debriefing meeting between the two sessions.
As each speaker was sharing their reflections, and my turn came, I admitted right away that I felt nervous – I did not say that I was in complete survival mode though. Surprisingly, nobody reacted.
It felt good to acknowledge publicly that I struggled, and I took their lack of reaction as a “let’s move on” type of encouragement.
I had a couple of other meetings during the day which gave me more confidence on what I was supposed to convey during the introduction session. I felt more grounded, my confidence built up accordingly.
I reframed the pressure I felt earlier that day as exciting and challenging.
The next session was so much better. I owned the content of my presentation; I could feel much more connected to the message I meant to convey in the first place.
This gave me a huge confidence boost, and, despite the tiredness accumulated during the week, I felt much more energetic, completely embracing the experience.
Was it a coincidence that I wrote about mental toughness last week? Possibly.
There are two main takeaways from this experience.
Pause/Check-in/Reframe
I can read and learn about all the super fancy leadership models to deal with emotions, be an eloquent speaker, and convey confidence. At that very moment, all those things were out of reach, thrown by the window. Emotions got the hold of me. And that is ok. I would like to think that it is ok not to be always on our A game, even when it is important. But the key part of the situation was to find the strength to reflect on what happened and move on. What would not have been ok was to give another poor presentation.
I acknowledged my state – call it my failure –, reflected on it, and reframed my emotional state and the perception of the pressure I felt – it did not go away – to make it an exciting opportunity rather than another painstaking and daunting moment.
This is all about mental toughness, self-awareness, and reframing.
We are unequal toward change
The second takeaway concerns the way we live changes. Some love changes, and they dramatically challenge others.
Though I love change and I thrive through navigating the uncertainties that come with it, that day, I got taken over by my emotions.
Changes will always trigger emotions.
Through the prism of our personal history and experiences, those emotions will be different and unique to everyone. Some will be positive, others will be negative, some will be mild, and others will be strong.
As a middle manager, I am responsible for keeping the cohesion in the team while going through a major change process. I shall foster an environment where those thriving with change can support those who struggle with it.
That requires the “change thrivers” to recognize that “change strugglers” can be challenged by change without viewing that as a weakness – and bring them along throughout the change journey. That also requires the “change strugglers” to be vulnerable and open about the fact they do not feel comfortable with the change. It might be because the change rocks their reality or because they do not understand it in the first place. By acknowledging their discomfort or trouble and putting it “out there”, we can now do something about it. They take the first step to reframe the change to something less threatening, from which opportunities may arise.
In the right environment, a leader from the middle should use the strengths of some to help those who have difficulty.
When I played rugby, this principle was paramount. A team would not be successful, even if there were talented players unless the team players would come along as a cohesive and united ensemble. The team’s strength was not materializing out of thin air during game days. It was the result of a long process during which our coach ensured we got to know each other, we bonded – the famous rugby 3rd half-time –, and we strategized on how to use the strengths of individuals to the benefit of the whole team.
I am excited and humbled by the change I am now going through.
I sometimes need to pause to check in and manage my emotions. That is perfectly ok.
I shall also care about my colleagues and guide them through the same process (pause/check-in/reframe) when needed.
What about you? Do you get derailed by your emotions sometimes?
Come and share it on The Middle Management Anonymous Agora, our podcast!
You can also contact me directly and engage with The Middle Management Anonymous community!
As always, I will be happy to get your comments and feedback.