You’re in a meeting. Someone raises a concern you didn’t expect. Before they’ve finished the sentence, you’re already composing your response.
You’re good at this. You’ve built a career on having the answer, delivering it clearly, and moving the room forward. Speed feels like competence. Silence feels like something to fix.
So you fill it. Every time.
Here’s what that costs.
The room stops pushing back. People have learned the window for a different perspective is about three seconds long. Decisions get made quickly. Quickly isn’t the same as well. And the distance between those two things compounds over months and years, in ways you don’t see because no one is telling you.
They’ve stopped trying.
The instinct to move fast past uncertainty is a habit that used to serve you. Noticing when it kicks in is the first step in deciding whether it still does.
LAST WEEK
A team member reached out to me. On the surface, it looked like a conversation about compensation and workload. She felt stretched.
My first instinct was to respond by email. Walk her through the context. Remind her of what had been discussed at her review. Close the loop efficiently and move on.
I almost did it.
Instead, I paused. I wrote back and asked if we could find time to talk. When we got on the call, I didn’t open with context or history. I asked one question.
How can I support you?
And then I waited.
What followed surprised me. The conversation went somewhere I hadn’t expected. What she was actually carrying had nothing to do with money or workload. I had been about to solve the wrong problem, and walk away thinking I’d handled it.
When we got to the end of the call, I asked her again: how can I support you?
She said: “You just did. I don’t think I needed anything to change. I just needed to be heard.”
The pause isn’t hesitation. It’s where the conversation you actually need begins.
WHAT TO DO WITH THIS
Notice it. That’s the first step and it’s most of the work.
Catch yourself in the half-second before you fill the silence or close the loop. Before you hit send on the email that answers the question nobody asked.
It sounds small. But the room changes. You made space for something you hadn’t heard yet.
I’m still learning this. Last week reminded me how much.