Nearly a century ago, psychologist Bluma Zeigarnik identified what we now call the Zeigarnik Effect: the tendency to hold unfinished tasks in our minds, where they continually occupy our attention. Later research found that making a specific plan for when and how to complete an unfinished task can reduce cognitive load.

More recently, David Allen, author of the seminal book Getting Things Done, uses the metaphor of “psychic RAM” to describe the mental capacity consumed by commitments we’re holding in our heads. They both point to the same basic idea — that unfinished commitments consume mental bandwidth.

I’ve now coached 50 leaders, and most of the people I’ve worked with assume they’re mentally exhausted because they simply have too much to do. Together, we typically uncover that that’s only part of the story. Often, what seems to wear people down is that they have many open loops — unfinished projects or tasks, lingering decisions, difficult conversations they haven’t begun, or looming commitments that all remain in the background.

It’s a little like having dozens of tabs open in your browser; even when you’re only looking at one, the others are still there, quietly taking up space and slowly draining your energy… until you’re out of RAM.

Attention debt

The more I’ve noticed this dynamic, the less I find this is about productivity and more about attention. A lot has been written about the attention economy we’re in; I’ve started thinking of this as attention debt. Every unresolved commitment places a small claim on your attention, and those claims accumulate over time, putting you more and more in debt.

While trying to focus on a strategy document, a leader might also be carrying the budget that needs approval, the person who deserves feedback, the conversation they’ve been avoiding, the grant proposal that’s still unfinished, the email sitting in drafts, and the many personal commitments they don’t want to forget. None of those things are demanding their attention in that moment, yet many remain mentally active.

Not every unfinished task works this way; most of us aren’t lying awake thinking about buying toothpaste. Some commitments are remarkably cheap for our brains to carry. Others seem to demand attention long after we’ve stopped actively working on them. In my experience, those tend to involve uncertainty, conflict, money, reputation, or other people. Leadership naturally creates more of these emotionally significant commitments, which may be one reason so many leaders describe feeling mentally exhausted.

When we talk about burnout, we usually focus on long hours, unrealistic workloads, or organizational challenges, and all of those matter. But I wonder if we underestimate the sheer number of unresolved commitments we continue carrying from one day to the next. If your mind never fully lets go of yesterday’s conversations, tomorrow’s decisions, and next month’s deadlines, it’s difficult to experience a restorative break.

Even during moments of rest, part of your attention can remain quietly at work. For many changemakers, there’s an extra cognitive load that follows us into our “off-time.” It’s hard to stop thinking about making the world better simply because it’s the weekend. The work can follow us into conversations with friends, quiet moments at home, and time that is technically supposed to be ours.

Another concept that complements this is what researcher Sophie Leroy calls attention residue. When we move from one task to another, part of our attention can remain with the previous task, making it harder to fully engage with what is in front of us. I’d wager something similar happens when we carry dozens of unresolved commitments at once. Even if we’re only actively working on one, our attention keeps getting pulled toward the others. We assume we’re distracted because we lack discipline, when in reality we may simply be carrying more unresolved cognitive load than our attention can comfortably hold.

When capacity masquerades as ability

One reason I find this framework so useful is that it offers a different explanation for something many high-performing leaders experience. When people feel scattered or unable to think clearly, it’s easy to conclude that something has changed about their ability. I frequently hear versions of the following statements:

• “Maybe I’m just not organized enough.”

• “Everyone else seems to manage this better.”

• “I feel like I’m losing my edge.”

Could those conclusions be pointing to the wrong problem?

I regularly talk about the distinction between ability and capacity, which often get confused with each other. Ability is what you’re capable of doing; the skills and capabilities you’ve developed. Capacity is how much your mind is already carrying while you’re trying to use those skills effectively. Much of coaching, in my experience, is about expanding that capacity so leaders can navigate increasing complexity without becoming overwhelmed by it.

A leader carrying dozens of unresolved commitments may feel slower, less creative, and less decisive than usual — not because they’ve become less capable, but because they’re trying to think clearly while carrying far more than their attention can comfortably hold.

Protecting your attention

This distinction matters because it changes where we look for solutions. If we believe we’ve lost ability, our instinct is usually to push harder, work longer, or prove ourselves by taking on even more. Those responses can make the problem worse.

That doesn’t mean the answer is to spend every afternoon clearing small tasks from a to-do list. Responding to ten easy emails can feel productive while conveniently delaying the difficult strategic decision that actually deserves attention. Closing less meaningful loops can become another form of avoidance.

Instead, the more useful question is whether we’re carrying commitments that continue to demand attention despite no longer deserving it. What can be completed? What can be delegated? What needs a concrete next step? And what deserves an honest decision that it is no longer a priority? (I’d love to see this last option chosen more often!)

Sometimes the highest-leverage hour isn’t spent starting the next big initiative; it’s spent getting organized and identifying the handful of unresolved commitments that have been taxing your attention and deciding what to do with each one. Protecting your attention this way creates more room for the kind of focused, uninterrupted work that allows leaders to do their best thinking. Cal Newport has written extensively about the value of “deep work” (see additional resource below), we need more of this kind of work.

Putting it into practice

Over the past few months, I’ve found that asking better questions can be more useful than reaching for another productivity system, especially when that scattered feeling starts creeping in. Here are some to consider:

• Which commitments keep replaying in my mind without meaningful progress?

• Which ones deserve my attention, and which have simply become mental habits or rumination?

• Am I carrying [this] because it matters, or because you haven’t made a decision?

• What would it look like to close this loop? Not necessarily by finishing it today, but at least by deciding what happens next.

• And my favorite: What can I intentionally let go of?

I don’t expect any leader to eliminate open loops. In many ways, leadership is the work of carrying unfinished things. The wisest leaders I work with aren’t the ones who somehow finish everything, but those who become increasingly intentional about which unfinished commitments deserve their attention and which no longer do.

Additional reading:

• Harvard Business Review: “Why Your Brain Dwells on Unfinished Tasks.”

• I’ve put together a summary of the six key ideas from Deep Work: Rules for Focused Success in a Distracted World, along with coaching questions and practical ways leaders can apply them. Send me a message if you’d like a copy.

The leaders I talk to often narrow their options, gather input from trusted advisors, make pro/con lists, and think through the risks from every angle, yet most people still have a hard time deciding. The specifics are always different, but underneath it is the same desire: certainty.

In my work, I’ve noticed that people feel most hesitant in the moments when they’re waiting for certainty that never really comes. We can tell ourselves that clarity might be around the corner but that keeps us in a holding pattern and keeps us stuck. What I’ve found myself and my clients gravitating towards is an idea of leadership that isn’t about getting rid of uncertainty but about learning how to lead through it.

Nobody knows

One of the most common misconceptions about leadership is believing everyone else knows something you don’t. This is where a lot of the loneliness in leadership stems from. From where you’re standing, peers seem decisive and confident, and it’s easy to assume that means they’re also certain. But over time, I’ve come to see something different. Most of them aren’t operating with significantly more certainty; they’re either more comfortable with uncertainty or they’re posturing.

Psychologist Ellen Langer calls this “confident uncertainty.” Rather than treating uncertainty as a personal failure, she invites us to recognize that uncertainty is universal. In other words, “I don’t know” doesn’t mean “I’m missing something” or “I’m behind.” It means none of us know everything, and that’s just part of the job. That shift matters, because if uncertainty is the normal condition of leadership rather than evidence that you’re failing, you stop waiting for certainty before acting. You make the best decision you can with the information available, you’re flexible, and then you stay curious enough to keep learning as reality unfolds.

Confidence is not certainty

I see people often confuse confidence with certainty. We assume confident leaders know how things will turn out or that their decision is “the right one,” but in reality, many truly confident leaders simply trust something different. They trust that if circumstances change, they’ll adapt. If they make a mistake, they’ll learn from it. If a new challenge emerges, they’ll respond. Their confidence isn’t rooted in prediction; it’s rooted in their adaptability.

That distinction has become increasingly important for changemakers (and for me personally). Funding landscapes shift, political environments change, technology evolves, public opinion moves, and organizations grow/shrink/merge/reinvent themselves. The conditions around us rarely stay still long enough for certainty to arrive, yet we expect or search for it anyway.

So, what do you anchor to?

I recently read How to Not Know: The Value of Uncertainty in a World that Demands Answers by Simone Stolzoff, and one of my takeaways is that when the external environment is unpredictable, effective leaders intentionally create stability somewhere else, a “certainty anchor.” Sometimes that’s a morning routine, a trusted relationship, a recurring coaching or peer-advisory conversation, or a ritual of writing down what you know, what you don’t know, and what you’re choosing anyway. But the author found that the strongest anchor is usually one’s values.

Strategies, budgets, and roles all may change, but our values can remain remarkably steady (this is a superpower for changemakers). They don’t eliminate uncertainty, and they’re not supposed to, but they can help us decide who we want to be while moving through it. When everything around you feels unsettled, a useful question might be: What remains true regardless of how this situation unfolds? That question doesn’t solve everything, but it gives you something solid to stand on. Start by identifying the anchors that ground your life and whatever is before you at work.

Building tolerance for not knowing

It may seem obvious, but we don’t become better at navigating uncertainty by avoiding it — we become better by experiencing it. Just as muscles grow when you regularly push them, our tolerance for uncertainty grows through repeated exposure. That means leaning into the fear of uncertainty more frequently and in small ways. That could look like launching something before it feels “perfect,” speaking up in a meeting without knowing how it’ll be received, making a change without being able to predict every consequence, or choosing a direction/next step before you can envision how it’ll unfold.

The greatest barrier to navigating uncertainty isn’t fear; rather, it’s our tendency to seek comfort by trying to control the unknown. In my view, curiosity is often a better guide than comfort. The goal isn’t to eliminate uncertainty from your leadership — it’s to expand your capacity to remain thoughtful, values-driven, and effective while uncertainty is present. This is where your resilience gets built and how you start to really discover that you’re capable of far more than you thought.

Trust your future self

It’s long been said that we often suffer twice: once in our imagination, and again if the feared outcome actually happens. That idea has always resonated, and I see it in the leaders I work with who spend a lot of time trying to anticipate every possible problem before they act. But the version of you imagining the future challenge is not the same version of you who will actually meet it. This awareness has been a profound shift in my own psyche.

Your future self will have more information, context, and experience than you have right now — and may also have access to different support than you do today. Trusting your future self doesn’t mean pretending everything will work out. It means believing you won’t face tomorrow’s uncertainty with today’s understanding. That matters, because a lot of people get stuck trying to solve future problems with present-day information, and that’s usually where the overthinking starts.

Grieving another outcome

In every meaningful decision, no matter what you choose, there’s something you didn’t choose. A different version of your career, campaign, a different future that will never exist. Author Martha Beck describes these as “ghost ships,” the lives or outcomes we didn’t choose. I find that’s a helpful way to think about decision-making, because part of leadership is allowing yourself to acknowledge those (potential) losses without letting them keep you standing on the dock.

What’s usually required of you isn’t certainty but making a choice despite the uncertainty. That feels especially true for leaders, because if you wait until every alternative has been fully thought through and grieved, you may never move at all. One of my favorite quotes comes from Teddy Roosevelt: “In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing is the wrong thing, and the worst thing you can do is nothing.” I’ve seen people freeze or pause for so long that the opportunity passes them. If you can, choose persistence and courage over inaction; it will often serve you.

Let’s practice building your tolerance

Great leaders don’t eliminate uncertainty but instead increase their tolerance for it.

Like any leadership competency, uncertainty tolerance can be strengthened. We start to build it not by waiting until uncertainty disappears, but by noticing when we’re asking for a level of certainty that isn’t available. The next time you find yourself stuck, overthinking, or searching for one more piece of information before acting, pause and ask yourself:

• Where in my leadership am I waiting for certainty before acting?

• What decision have I postponed because I’m hoping for information that may never come?

• What am I treating as unknowable that could instead become an experiment?

• If certainty never arrived, what would my next step be?

• What values do I want this decision to reflect, regardless of how it turns out?

• What would change if I trusted my ability to adapt more than my ability to predict?

Notice that none of these questions eliminate uncertainty. Instead, they shift your attention away from trying to control the future and back toward what you can influence in the present: your next decision, your willingness to learn, and the kind of leader you choose to be when the path ahead isn’t fully visible.

Leading through the fog

Leadership development experts and firms spend tons of time and money teaching leaders strategy, communication, delegation, feedback, and the like, but almost nobody teaches or supports leaders how to function psychologically when they genuinely don’t know. The fact that this shows up so consistently in coaching tells me we’re overlooking something fundamental about leadership.

Society often imagines “leadership” as standing at the front of the room with answers. The more I do this work, the more I realize leadership looks closer to standing in the fog with everyone else and moving things forward anyway.

This bias toward action was blocking her from being able to make more conscious decisions. So, as we clarified her objectives, I asked a different question: What would become easier if you stopped doing certain things?

That question landed harder than any performance metric we’d discussed. Her challenge, she came to see, was that she needed to have better discernment — to realize where doing less might actually get her closer to her goal of being more present.

The value of discernment

At a certain stage of leadership, growth stops being about doing more and starts being about knowing when not to act. Discernment means knowing what truly requires your intervention versus what simply triggers your impulse to be useful or “add value.”

Most leaders are trained to solve. That’s often how they advanced in the first place. They were the person who could see the problem, improve the slide deck, anticipate the campaign risk, and then make the change. But at a certain level, the reflex to jump in and solve the problem becomes the very thing that limits you as a leader. One of the key competencies of leadership evolves from fixing problems to seeing the situation clearly enough to know what needs to be subtracted — and allowing space for others to develop their own solutions.

Many leaders have a strong bias toward action. Fewer have trained their capacity to sit in silence or ambiguity without immediately resolving the challenge before them. Yet sometimes that restraint is exactly what allows better solutions to surface.

Peter Drucker, often called the “father of modern management,” once observed that 50% of leaders don’t need to learn what to do; they need to learn what to stop. Yet stopping is harder than starting.

There’s a misconception, or even just a feeling, that doing less means caring less or being less effective. Some change-makers worry that it signals reduced ambition to funders. In practice, the opposite is usually true.

Elimination as strategy

“When you need clarity, subtract.” — James Clear

A number of leadership development experts have written about the need to eliminate the many things one can do reasonably well to focus on the few things that truly matter. Elimination isn’t just about time management; it’s about protecting cognitive bandwidth.

When leaders stop attending low-leverage meetings, stop saying yes to interesting but non-essential initiatives, stop doing tasks that they could hand off because “it’s easier to just do it than explain it,” they create space for clearer thinking. Just as importantly, they send signals to their team about priorities. What you decline shapes culture as much as what you endorse.

Most of my clients have heard me say, “Every yes is also a no.” For change-makers, it’s usually a no to rest, focus, or the space needed to think strategically about the future and the kind of leadership they want to practice.

Often, the habit of saying no becomes a keystone behavior. Once formed, it cascades into other benefits, including sharper focus, reduced decision fatigue, clearer ownership, faster execution, and improved morale.

Building the muscle

Sometimes, restraint is what allows better solutions to surface — and it starts with noticing how quickly we move to solve problems.

Most of the work I do with leaders (including mid-level managers) starts with helping them see themselves more clearly. How quickly do they move from listening to positioning, from curiosity to solution? The first step is not stopping the behavior; it’s being aware of it. With presence comes awareness, with awareness comes choice, and with choice comes a range of options your wise self can access.

You can start with small diagnostics:

• How often did your idea become the default direction, even if your opinion was directly solicited?
  → What would’ve happened if you weren’t in that meeting?

• What would happen if you waited 60 seconds longer before weighing in and sat in the awkward silence to allow the team to think?

  • (You may need to name that you’re intentionally pausing to hear their thoughts).

• If your last team meeting was recorded, what would be the ratio of questions you asked to statements you made?

  • And what might that ratio reveal about who was doing the heavy lifting of thinking?

• When asked for your input in a 1:1, what would happen if you said, “I’m happy to help you think through this, though I’m still looking for you to lead. What solutions do you see here? Let’s explore those.”

This is restraint in action.

A micro-shift in the room

The difference between adding value and building capacity often shows up in small moments.

Imagine a team member brings you a half-formed idea. The instinct might be to improve it — tighten the logic, flag the risks, elevate the ambition.

Now imagine a different approach. You ask clarifying questions or say, “Tell me more about how you’re thinking about this.”

In the first scenario, you’ve added value. In the second, you’ve built capacity.

The difference is subtle but consequential. One produces better outcomes in the short term, while the other produces better thinkers over time.

Delegation as investment

In Multipliers: How the Best Leaders Make Everyone Smarter, the authors describe the best leaders as “investors” in the intelligence of their teams through coaching and support, rather than providing answers.

They hold people accountable by expecting full ownership of the work, even when the outcome isn’t as polished as the leader might’ve delivered themselves. Sometimes that means doing the uncomfortable thing: watching a mistake unfold and then helping facilitate the learning that follows. Without that space, growth never fully takes root.

True delegation isn’t about doing less, it’s about developing more. Every task a leader holds onto is a moment someone else could have used to stretch their own leadership capacity. Delegation is one of the core engines of scale.

The discipline of stopping

The distinction between capable leaders and exceptional ones often comes down to where they place their attention. Many focus primarily on managing work and people. Stronger leaders also pay attention to the quality of their own internal state — how quickly they react, how much space they allow, and whether they are truly listening.

When leaders don’t make this shift, the pattern is predictable. They become the bottleneck. They are overextended and underutilized at the same time — buried in operational detail while strategic clarity suffers. Their teams hesitate to move without approval. Burnout increases quietly on both sides. Over time, the organization grows dependent on a few rather than being capable of many. Doing more feels productive in the moment, but it can be the very thing that prevents scale.

This shift is uncomfortable for a reason. Doing less can feel like losing control. It can trigger concerns about appearing disengaged, weak, or replaceable. For leaders who have built their identity on being the sharpest thinker in the room, restraint can feel like a risk.

But at higher levels of leadership, your impact is no longer determined by how many problems you personally solve. It’s determined by the environment you create for others to think, contribute, and lead.

Can you resist the urge to step in long enough for others to step forward? Are you willing to trade short-term speed for the slower work that ultimately helps teams scale: developing others?

Better yet: If you were no longer the primary problem-solver for your team, who would you need to become instead?

At some point in leadership, the question stops being, What more can I do? And it becomes, What might become possible if I stepped back?

Additional reading:

1. Harvard Business Review: Is your leadership style too nice?

   1. Specifically, the section titled: “Tighten strategic focus: Say ‘no’ more often.”
      

2. Harvard Business Review: To Lead Through Uncertainty, Unlearn Your Assumptions

   1. Love this quote: “Leaders grow competence by adding skills, frameworks, and experiences. But they grow ‘capacity’ by unlearning, which involves changing prior scripts, such as the assumptions that speed, reassurance, and control are necessary when making complex leadership decisions.”
      

3. CEO Magazine: Mastering the art of subtraction

   1. “Stanford University research found that when people juggle too much information, their ability to filter distractions and make good decisions declines dramatically. Leaders may believe they are being efficient by doing more, but the science tells a very different story… Great leadership is about creating the conditions for better thinking and better work, and subtraction is how you get there.”
      

4. Institute of Managers and Leaders: Why Subtraction is the Key to Better Productivity

In February 2025, I formally launched Reveal Impact to bring leadership coaching to more changemakers. Since then, I’ve had the fortune to work with people across all levels of the leadership pipeline and at a wide range of organizations — some early in their careers, some new to mid-level management, and others carrying the weight that comes with being a founder, executive director, or board chair. Most everyone was navigating more complexity and challenges than they let on.

In the spirit of taking my own advice to pause and reflect, I wanted to share a few things I’ve noticed. Before that, here’s a brief recap of Reveal Impact’s first year.

A snapshot of the year

• I supported 29 leaders through six-month, one-on-one coaching engagements

• Leaders came from 22 organizations; select groups include:

• I saw 12 contract extensions or referrals

• One announcement offering discounted coaching generated 42 applications in under two weeks from four continents, signifying strong demand — and an unmet need — for coaching among social change advocates

• I joined KRW International, a leadership consultancy, as an executive coach

• Leaders shared consistently strong feedback in closing surveys:

  • 100% of respondents rated coaching as highly or extremely impactful

  • 100% attributed most or all of their progress on the issues they sought to address

  • 100% said coaching met or exceeded expectations

    • 84.6% said it exceeded expectations

  • 100% would recommend coaching with Reveal Impact to a colleague

Numbers only tell part of the story, but they help anchor what follows.

What leaders actually came in carrying

Across roles and organizations, patterns showed up quickly. Leaders talked about:

• Decision pressure and second-guessing: Leaders described making high-stakes decisions under constant pressure, often without adequate space to think. Many, including highly effective leaders, questioned their judgment. Helping leaders more easily access their inner confidence and self-trust was the #1 theme this year.

• Leadership role transitions and leadership presence: Many clients said they were unsure what their leadership style was and felt they were “winging” this component of their role. I had many sessions where we discussed the differences and overlapping components between leadership and management. Several leaders were navigating changes in role, scope, or expectations and expressed uncertainty about how they wanted to lead or what was even expected of them, particularly as responsibility, visibility, or decision-making demands increased.

• Role compression and unclear ownership: Many clients were juggling multiple roles (e.g. manager, strategist, culture-holder, fundraiser) without clear boundaries around what they owned, and how to share or delegate ownership.

• Communication strain: Leaders spoke about struggling to give direct feedback, navigating conflict, coaching their teams effectively, and managing high-stakes conversations.

• Chronic energy depletion: A lot of people are feeling persistent fatigue, blurred boundaries, and an “always on” posture, coupled with uncertainty about how to sustain themselves long-term. They’re navigating uncertainty at all levels: within themselves, the work product, their teams, and organizations. In fact, it was the second most common theme I saw.
  
  What struck me most wasn’t how difficult these challenges were but how normal they felt to the people experiencing them. Almost every client raised something I recognized from my own time as an on-the-ground leader. Many shared how relieving it felt to finally say these things out loud in a confidential space where posturing wasn’t required.

“I didn’t realize how much I was holding. You reflected things to me that I couldn’t see for myself, or maybe was choosing not to see. I’m my own worst critic and having a coach who challenges my assumptions about mistrust and failure, and reframes them, really helped interrupt the feedback loop where fear was masquerading as insight.”

What shifted over time

At the end of six-month engagements, leaders reflected on what changed. Often, the areas they initially named as most challenging were where the strongest shifts occurred. Here’s a high-level snapshot of what leaders reported improving:

Still, some of the most important shifts were harder to quantify: greater steadiness under pressure, more trust in their own judgment, and a healthier relationship to uncertainty.

A few things that stood out to me

A handful of themes kept resurfacing:

• Interpersonal leadership matters more than most people admit: Difficult conversations, clearer expectations, and better delegation were often the biggest levers for change.

• Many senior leaders are thinking alone: Coaching became one of the few spaces where they didn’t need to perform competence. This allowed for a more thorough exploration of the range of ideas they were punting around. Nearly every client left those sessions with a clearer, more confident sense of what to do next.

• Not everything is fixable and that matters: Structural constraints didn’t disappear (e.g. some roles simply require more than one person can do), but leaders described carrying them with less personal cost.

• The ripple effects are real: Supporting one leader often improved dynamics across teams, departments, or boards. Many clients shared that coaching helped them grow in areas they hadn’t planned to work on.

“Coaching has helped me get into the practice of taking a step back and looking at a situation from the ‘30,000-foot view.’ It’s helped me to develop a perspective that is more curious and empathetic and less ego-centered. Coaching has given me a framework for how to balance seemingly competing values, particularly in managing direct reports. And I’ve become much more aware of my patterns of behavior and speech while interacting with my team.”

Demand I didn’t fully anticipate

After receiving a small number of grants in May, I was able to offer heavily discounted coaching. I shared the opportunity through just a few channels and within two weeks, I received 42 applications from leaders across North America, Europe, Africa, and Asia. I could only support eight of them.

Several others chose to pay partially out of pocket despite limited professional development budgets, which told me something important: a lot of people need this kind of support, but the infrastructure hasn’t yet been built to accommodate them. The volume and consistency of requests underscored a significant level of unmet need for sustained leadership support.

One of the most meaningful moments this year was receiving a grant from a coaching client who wanted to expand access for others after experiencing this work firsthand.

Why I’m paying attention to all of this

In the private sector, leadership coaching is treated as a standard investment. In mission-driven work, it’s often considered optional.

From what I’ve seen this year, under-investing in leadership support for changemakers has real costs: unresolved conflict, exhausted leaders, misaligned teams, and people quietly leaving work they care about.

I knew this intellectually (and there’s a large body of research to demonstrate this), but this year really showed me what becomes possible when leaders are given sustained, thoughtful support — to help them think more clearly, lead more honestly, and stick with their work, however demanding it may be. When this kind of investment is made, organizations can better retain their incredibly passionate leaders and their historical knowledge.

Looking ahead

These early data points illustrate something simple but important: when leaders are supported with rigor, care, and sustained attention, everyone benefits.

In 2026, I plan to continue coaching leaders and share what I’m learning along the way. More than anything, this year reinforced a core belief of mine: people doing hard, meaningful work deserve places where they don’t have to carry everything alone. When they have that, their teams, organizations, and missions are stronger.

Onwards!

For change-makers, this season often comes with pressure to reflect quickly, set ambitious goals, and name bold intentions for the following year. I’ve noticed that we often rush through the most important part — the reflection — and move quickly to the what’s next?

This year, I suggest a different starting point than goal-setting: designing the conditions for the year ahead.

Rather than setting goals first, this post offers questions to help you see what needs to be true beneath your goals so that what you plan to achieve is aligned with who you are becoming. When both of these are clear, I see people thrive.

Slow down enough to see

Before turning toward 2026, let’s slow down to see the year we’re leaving. Reflection is critical because we can’t change our conditions until we really see and understand how they came to be. Some questions I’m asking myself and my clients:

• Where was I most present this year?

• Where did I move quickly without fully noticing the cost?

• What required courage from me, especially when fear was present?

• What did I learn about my energy, my limits, or my leadership that I can’t unsee?

Many of my clients discover that the most important insights from the year aren’t the obvious wins or misses, but the quieter realizations:

• “I’m stronger than I gave myself credit for.”

• “I kept pushing past signals that mattered.”

Reflection, at its best, creates awareness and recognition — not a verdict. It gives us the chance to zoom out, to see both the micro moments (the conversations, decisions, habits) and the macro arc (how the year shaped us).

First, let’s go big picture

When a client recently asked me to support her with 2026 planning, I invited her to start here: When you imagine December 2026, what feels most important that you honored, regardless of outcomes?

My clients and friends know that I like to “extend the time horizon,” meaning think about the challenge from a longer period of time. So before we talk about goals for the year, let’s pan out further. What do you want 2026 to be known for in your own life? I don’t mean publicly, or on your resume, but when you look back on your life.

When you imagine December 2026, what would make this coming year feel meaningful rather than another busy year? These questions often surface something deeper than objectives. They point us toward who we’re becoming.

From “What should I do?” to “Who am I practicing being?”

In my coach training, instructors emphasized that the best coaches “coach the person, not the problem.” This is a core tenet of the International Coaching Federation that accredits coaches, including yours truly.

So in that spirit, I’m asking my clients:

• Who do you want to be while pursuing your goals next year?

• What leadership posture do you want to practice more intentionally?

• What version of you has been running the show and is that still the right one?

• What might you need to let go of?

This shifts us from “What should I do?” to “Who am I practicing being?” And in that process, we also shift from capacity management to self-trust and choice (a more powerful leadership position). When the latter is embodied, you’ll feel more ease and your teams will too, because it moves us from reacting to demands to acting from intention. (Side note: “intention” might be my #1 most used word of 2025).

When values are costly

More than any other group of people I’ve encountered, change-makers can name our values on a dime. It makes sense, of course, except when they butt up against our unmet expectations, fear, or conflicting values. So…

• Which values are non-negotiable for you in 2026, even when things get tough?

• Where have you historically compromised these values in the name of productivity, approval, impact, or [insert your kryptonite here]?

• How will you protect these values structurally, not just aspirationally?

  • For example, if balance or deep work is a core value, protecting it structurally might mean scheduling no-meeting work blocks, or deciding in advance how many evenings a month you’re willing to work, rather than relying on willpower in the moment. And then, the real challenge comes in: sticking to it.

Values don’t guide decisions when things are easy. They guide us when they’re costly or hard to enforce.

Planning with constraints (not against them)

One of the most strategic (and compassionate) moves you can make is to plan from reality. For example, I’m always encouraging my partner not to be a time-optimist and to prepare for things to take longer than expected. As you do your goal setting, consider these prompts:

• What’s a part of yourself you’ve been hoping you can change, that you might be better off accepting and accommodating?

• What truth about your energy, focus, or limits are you willing to accept and design around?

Constraints aren’t personal failures; they’re inputs. We can reduce our suffering when we accept ourselves as we are (easier said than done, I know). Of course, we can push for personal growth but do so honestly and with some level of acceptance about our natural tendencies.

Ignoring our natural constraints doesn’t make them disappear, and over time, doing so can boil over into burnout and resentment.

The discipline of saying no

In my own work as executive director, and across many client conversations, one struggle has come up again and again: saying no. It’s hard to say no because we care so deeply, and we can see how doing the thing can make an impact, often leading to us saying yes to too many projects, requests, ideas, or opportunities.

The adage is true: “Every yes is also a no.” For change-makers, it’s usually a no to rest, focus, or something unseen — and because that “other thing” isn’t visible, it’s easy to forget it exists at all.

You might ask:

• Given the leader you want to be, what does not belong in 2026?

• If you could only pursue 2–3 strategic priorities that truly express who you want to be and what you want to achieve, what would they be?

• What would it mean to fully commit to fewer things, and in that process, disappoint some people (or yourself)?

• Where might discernment, not effort, be the leadership skill you need most right now?

Saying no is much more than a capacity issue; it’s critical to increasing focus. To me, focus can be an expression of integrity. It’s how you actually follow through on the goals you said mattered. Of course, focus can look like many things in all learning styles and levels of neurodivergence. Knowing what your focus looks and feels like allows for intention and choice.

And now… designing the goals

In mission-driven spaces, goal-setting often prioritizes ambition over sustainability.

We look to funder expectations. We stretch toward the most expansive version of impact because we so desperately want a different world. This is beautiful and we should hold onto it and without being checked, this drive and energy can have a hidden cost to ourselves and/or our teams. We want to find the right blend of achieving more and sustaining ourselves, because that’s what keeps us in the fight for the long term.

So as you name goals, consider:

• How does this goal express who you want to be, not just what you want to achieve?

• If this goal succeeds but costs you your stated values, is it still a win?

• What does “done well” look like beyond metrics?

And just as importantly:

• What role does caring for yourself play in your goal-setting?

• What will you stop doing to make your goals feasible?

Almost everyone I work with struggles here. We want so much and we want it now. When is pushing appropriate? When is slowing down wiser? It’s an ongoing dance (and leadership competency).

Planning for drift (it will happen)

I’ve never worked with a person or organization that followed a plan exactly as designed. Deviation isn’t a failure of discipline; it’s inevitable. The question isn’t whether you’ll drift, but how you’ll respond when you do.

• What are the early signs that you’re slipping into old patterns?

• Who or what will help you course-correct without shame or negative self-talk?

Drift is information. Presence allows you to know when it’s taking you in the right direction and bringing you closer to your goals, or pulling you further from them.

A Final Invitation

As you can tell by now, I’m less interested in resolutions and more in guiding principles. If this post sparks something for you, consider journaling about what resonated over a cup of tea, or use it as a conversation starter with your friends, partner, or even your manager. I’d love to hear what emerges for you, too. As you stand between 2025 and 2026, which question in this reflection feels most alive — or unresolved — for you right now? Email me or comment below!

We all have preferences for one pole over the other and tend to lean strongly in favor of it. However, too much of one without the other can have negative impacts, so finding the right blend is key. These are polarities — interdependent yet seemingly opposite states that must coexist for success. Here are some examples: Work/Rest, Action/Reflection, Responsibility/Freedom, Innovation/Efficiency, Short-Term/Long-Term, Change/Stability, Reduce Cost/Improve Quality.

Many people approach polarities with an either/or mindset — either we have to be this or that, this situation can be summed up by X or Y. However, those using a both/and mindset are typically more fulfilled and successful than those who don’t because they can see a full range of possibilities available, they see and then can make choices.

Polarities aren’t problems to be solved, which typically require either/or thinking. They are situations that must be maintained and managed over time to achieve success, often requiring both/and thinking. This requires a shift in mindset and behavior.

All polarities work the same way: Every pole has benefits and contains several perspectives, but when one side is overused, unproductive things happen. Without awareness and intention, we find ourselves constantly swinging from one pole to the other.

For example, “focusing on others” has many benefits, but its overuse can be harmful when it’s not blended with “focusing on one’s self.” My goal is to help you find a third perspective that honors, respects, and holds both poles simultaneously — we call this the “Third Way” in coaching.

For example, by combining the benefits of “focus on self” and “focus on others” we can create a mindset that says, “my job is to cultivate nurturing relationships that consider the needs of others while staying true to my own.”

One polarity I’m constantly working on is “taking seriously/holding lightly.” My preference is to hold things seriously, but when I overdo it I feel a mental cost. That can look like me going above and beyond for something that’s not a personal priority and then feeling mentally exhausted by the weight of my actions and having less time for things that are meaningful to me.

I’m working to avoid swinging the pendulum so far that I hold everything lightly. Rather, I’m striving to calibrate such that I find the choice in when I hold things lightly and when I take things seriously (rather than automatically defaulting into taking everything seriously). This is a work in progress.

As a coach, I see many leaders working on this polarity, too. I find myself often asking my clients, “What can you do to hold things more lightly without losing your preference to take things seriously?” “What does holding something important lightly concretely look like?” “How does that feel?” “What’s underneath?” Taking things seriously has served you well, of course! What other possibilities might open up if you hold things a little more lightly?

As you continue on your leadership journey, check out the Key Polarity Indicator website for key polarities of leadership (sampling below).

I know that feeling all too well. And from an evolutionary and neuroscientific standpoint, it makes total sense.

For most of human history, we were able to use the knowledge we gained directly from our surroundings, communities, and storytelling to build our intuition, which served as a reliable guide. Today, however, we’ve built an exceedingly complex world that surpasses our understanding, yet we attempt to navigate it with a brain designed for a vastly different era.

Evolution hasn’t kept pace with civilization’s rapid transformation. While our environment has changed dramatically over the past 10,000 years (a blip in time from an evolutionary standpoint), the fundamental structure of the human brain remains largely the same as when we first developed agriculture and started domesticating animals. This mismatch between our ancient brain and the modern world is sometimes referred to as the “evolutionary lag or mismatch“ or “Stone Age brain” in a digital world.

When you pause and consider this larger context, it’s no surprise that we make predictable errors, both in abstract reasoning and in the practical choices that shape our lives.

This is one reason why having a set of what are called “self-authored cognitive skills,” “thinking strategies,” or intellectual tools, is crucial — resources we can develop and regularly use, with intention, to wade through the challenges we face in our lives and at work. These tools help us perceive the world more objectively and make wiser long-term decisions; examples include, values-based decision-making, Socratic questioning, holding perspective, and expanding the time horizon, to name just a few.

One of the processes I use with my clients is building their presence — a grounded awareness in a given situation — so that they can see the current moment with a fresh lens. With presence, you have a fighting chance to cultivate awareness, so that you can actually see the full range of choice available to you. And with that clarity of choice, you can ultimately make the behavior change you’re seeking. The adage is true: you can’t change what you don’t see.

With daily practice of these principles, you can refine your thinking and even reshape your brain, thanks to neuroplasticity — or the concept that your brain isn’t fixed or hardwired, it’s adaptable and can change throughout your life.

Without these intellectual tools our world is clouded, we experience unnecessary suffering, and take action out of line with our beliefs and values — and even our best interests. The best leaders have honed this powerful yet hidden skill. As knowledge workers and simply human beings, we owe it to ourselves and our communities to do the same.

I chose the name Reveal Impact intentionally* as it speaks to powerful coaching concepts and my vision for this work. My declaration statement: I coach people to reveal their authentic selves and to live and lead with purpose, integrity, and impact.

• Reveal speaks to uncovering or bringing to light a person’s potential — a process of discovery. To unearth what you want and where you want to go.

  • According to the dictionary, ‘to reveal’ is to make known or visible something previously hidden, whether by uncovering (bringing to light), unveiling (presenting or making something known for the first time), or actualizing it (making something real or bringing something into existence).

• Impact signifies the tangible results of your unlocked potential – greater success, fulfillment, and leadership effectiveness.

  • Importantly, “impact” can be external (for the world) or internal (in one’s own life). I work with clients to achieve both.

The logo was also designed with intention.

• The gold line represents the pivotal moment of change — the transition between your potential and your achievement, where clarity and new possibilities emerge. The thin quality of the line symbolizes the focus coaching provides, cutting through the noise; and suggests a fluidity, reflecting leadership as a continuous, evolving journey.

• The dark purple font reflects introspection, strategic vision, and transformation; gold symbolizes wisdom and richness of the journey; and green represents growth and action. The balance of these colors creates a sense of movement, transition, and possibility.

About Amruza

I discovered coaching in my previous role as the founder and executive director of a nonprofit called Encompass that worked at the intersection of racial equity and animal protection. Leading Encompass was a deeply meaningful experience, one in which I learned the importance of self-awareness, resilience, and adaptive leadership.

My experience with an executive coach, Alan Heymann (who is still hugely instrumental in my growth), during this time, helped me hone these qualities. We worked to cultivate my mindset, presence, confidence, and so much more.

After Encompass I took a sabbatical to sit with some bigger picture questions like: How do I want to feel at work? What skills do I most want to utilize? What talents do I most want to cultivate? When I’m 70, what will I regret not pursuing? What fears are here? What is my gut pulling me toward?

Clarity came. I wanted to tap into my natural skills, yet feel challenged. I wanted to support people who are working to be their best selves in service of creating a better world. Coaching was something that kept coming to me, even when I tried to push it away (due to my fear and uncertainty). I decided to bet on myself because I love coaching that much.

I love coaching because it’s forward-looking, and the process itself necessitates doing inner work to unlock the potential already within the individual. I love “being” a coach (which entails a significant amount of self-work) and I love the process of “doing” coaching.**

Once I realized this, I applied and got accepted to Georgetown University’s one of the most highly selective executive leadership coaching programs, and from there I’ve taken off.

My growth as a coach is rooted in a decades-long journey to build my self-awareness and social insight. I’m committed to continuous learning and personal development, ensuring I can hold space for my clients to make meaningful progress on their own terms. The frameworks and theoretical foundations I’m currently most passionate about exploring are strengths-based approaches, adult development theory, emotional intelligence, mindfulness, neuroscience, and somatic/embodied practices.

More than anything I believe when there’s self-alignment, people are more able to reach their highest potential, thereby creating meaningful change for a better world. And for me, nothing feels better than being able to support someone in their process as they make that change.

* On a personal note, I also wanted a name with the initials RI in honor of my beloved, soul dog, Rihana who most people lovingly called Ri. (Photo below).

** The “‘being’ and ‘doing’ of coaching” is a coaching concept that explains that effective coaching requires both the right skills (”doing”) and the internal mindset and presence that shape meaningful interactions (”being”).

This has been a long time coming. For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled to find a home in my birth name: Aryenish. I love that my parents chose a Parsi name (with historic Persian origins) that means “of noble descent,” this is an important part of my identity – but the name has never felt right for me (more on why below). An individual’s name is one of the most important things we tell people about ourselves, so I wanted to find one that I love and give it the psychological weight it deserves.

It was extremely powerful to develop my own name. My new, chosen name, Amruza, is one I created that’s rooted in modern Farsi. It translates to “I am today” – a meaning I adore.

The process of my getting here has been decades in the making and so I’m sharing my journey and thoughts via bullets below. I discuss some of the reasons I wanted to change my name, my challenges, the power of names, my fears, my process to finding Amruza including my naming criteria, the reasons why I love my new name, and some resources for more information.

My first name is now Amruza (with Aryenish serving as my middle name). I’m lucky Birdie is my surname as it’s absolutely perfect for me – that will remain unchanged as will my pronouns, she/her.

Searching for a new name

Reasons I wanted to change my name (younger years)

• I’ve never felt fully at home in my birth name, even as a young child. There hasn’t been a time in my life when I haven’t internally cringed when I hear anyone (other than my mom) say Aryenish… even my sister, even my partner.

• I remember being 6 years old and realizing that nearly everyone I’ve interacted with failed to say Aryenish correctly: friends, teachers, strangers, etc. – that remains true to this day, decades later.

• Part of what I don’t like about “Aryenish” is there are so many ways to pronounce it and I myself don’t fully know what I prefer or what’s “right.” Even my two parents pronounce Aryenish differently, as does my extended family. So it’s no wonder that just about everyone I’ve interacted with puts their spin on it. I’ve tried to reframe this to myself for nearly 20 years but I’ve always found it annoying.

  • Even more important, I don’t like how any of the variations sound to my own ears, it’s just not a name/word that I think sounds pretty.

• In the fourth grade, a friend just started calling me “Anna” without asking me, and then everyone around us started calling me that too. I acquiesced and asked people to do it too. At the time, nearly everyone I interacted with (who were all white), including my friends and their parents, teachers, and coaches, said directly (or something to the effect of), “Thank God you now go by a nickname.” But when I entered high school, I asked everyone to use Aryenish again and adopted an “easier” pronunciation.

  • There’s no way to underestimate the power of these experiences at such a formative age on my disdain for my name. However, I’ve worked deeply and diligently on uprooting my internalized racism with respect to my name and feel confident now that I simply don’t like the sound and the numerous ways to say it.

    • This is why I was clear that I wanted to find a name that’s authentic to my lineage despite how difficult it might be for people in the U.S. to say (more on my naming process below).

• Growing up, my name was just one more example of the divide I felt existed between me and everyone else — it was yet another way for me to feel “othered.”

Reasons I wanted to change my name (post-high school)

• It’s impossible to know how much of my feelings today are connected to my past. I know they are. I also know I’ve spent hundreds, if not thousands of hours, working to feel comfortable in my name using every technique out there.

  • I truly believe I’m at a place now where I can confidently say that Aryenish is simply a name that doesn’t suit me.

• I want a name that’s more phonetically and symbolically appealing to me – and I now believe I deserve that. It has taken so.much.work to get to the point of feeling entitled to have a name I love.

• There’s a unique, self-energized power that comes from choosing your own name. I’m able to recognize that my given name has got me to a point and I’m now able to enact my self-autonomy and choose the name I want moving forward.

• The fatigue of my name being mispronounced is extremely deep, real, and pervasive.

My challenges

• There’s copious evidence and brain research that illustrates how hearing the sound of your name activates your brain more than almost any other input. Most people love hearing their names, but I’ve hated hearing mine my entire life – even from my closest family members.

• At every age – including today – I’ve had a difficult time correcting other people when they say Aryenish incorrectly because I knew it’d make them feel awkward and I knew they weren’t intentionally trying to harm me.

  • For the most part I know people are making an honest mistake so I just told myself to suck it up. But now I know I was prioritizing the needs and perceived importance of other people over myself and not letting the impact of that carelessness be known as pain inside me.

  • When I tried to correct people for saying my name incorrectly, I did a lot to make them feel as comfortable as possible, and I’d make jokes at my expense or downplay my feelings.

  • More often than not, people would center their guilt of saying my name incorrectly when I tried to correct them and this built resentment and fatigue in me.

• I know Amruza will still present similar challenges; however, I’ve developed a resilience to confront this because there is one right way to say it and it’s a name I’ve chosen.

The power of names

• A person’s name is one of the most powerful connections they have to their own identity and individuality. Names are our labels; they’re a shorthand for everything we are and stand for.

  • They’re how we get someone’s attention and can indicate a sign of courtesy.

• Names are given to us before we’re born – or on our first few days of life – which means they often can’t capture the person who we become as our life unfolds.

• Changing your name is one of the most powerful acts of affirming your identity.

• Because names define who we are, we should be able to own that – renaming yourself creates space for self-exploration and self-expression.

• Names are relational. They communicate the message: this is how I want you to refer to me. When you change your name it becomes more active and less passive.

• Names can also be aspirational. Amruza represents the life changes I’m working to manifest.

• When names are a stumbling block they create distance and a lack of connection.

• Repeatedly saying someone’s name incorrectly (or avoiding saying their name) is stripping them of an important part of their identity.

• Asking someone if they have a nickname so you can feel more comfortable is deeply disrespectful and can be humiliating.

Fears

• This process has brought up lots of discomfort and fear in me. I refrained from making this change for several reasons including I worried my parents might feel a sense of rejection. I know they were intentional in choosing Aryenish and I didn’t want to cause them pain. I also feared they wouldn’t like the name Amruza.

• I’ve feared losing parts of myself that I like or parts of my history that I want to honor.

• I worry I’m asking too much of others to use Amruza.

  • I never, ever feel that way when someone else changes their name but I’ve had to work through the (false) belief that I don’t deserve to love my name. I’ve had to work through the feeling that I’m asking too much of people to use a new name for me — even the people I know love me the most.

• As I approached announcing my new name, I noticed I had stalled for several months because of the attachment I naturally have to the name I’ve used for 36 years.

• Because you can’t really “test” a name, I’ve feared questions like: “What if Amruza isn’t actually me?” “How will I know if Amruza is a name I’ll love for the rest of my life?”

• I’ve feared the confusion I’ll cause people by changing my name.

• I’ve feared losing some of my online presence, especially with my past work that lives on the internet.

My process to get to Amruza

• I’ve been thinking about this topic my whole life, with ever more intensity over the last 15 years, and even more in the last two. I dug deep into the question, “What might be lost by changing my name?” I decided I didn’t want to totally abandon my birth name so I made Aryenish my middle name.

• I didn’t want to choose a new name that’s anglicized. I did not want a name that allowed me to assimilate or that would even be perceived as assimilation.

• As I was researching different names, I considered getting input from people on the name itself so that I could think about it from multiple angles and get feedback. However, I decided that this process was just about me and so I didn’t share it with anyone until I was 99% certain that Amruza was the name I wanted.

• I took several months once I decided on Amruza to sit quietly with it by myself. I called myself Amruza while doing solo activities like driving and showering to see how it felt inside my body and I listened closely to what came up inside me.

  • I spent time creating art with this name.

• It’s impossible to know how you’re really going to feel about a name before others use it so I asked my partner to start using it several months ago.

• I held a naming ceremony for myself which included a few things including on seed paper, writing a list of: hopes for the future, personal commitments, what I’m grateful for, and things I’m proud of myself for achieving and then burying it

  I took several weeks to write this document and it was a powerful way to get more connected to Amruza. It also allowed me to commemorate what I’ve been through and thought about.

My naming criteria

• I was grateful to have had clarity throughout the entire process on my criteria as I was searching for my name. I wanted my new name to:

  • Communicate my Zoroastrian lineage, a name from the Indo-Iranian tradition, which my birth name comes from

  • Start with an “a” because my current name does and I love my initials: AB

  • Have a “y” or “z” in it because my current name has a y, or z because that’s one of the most common/identifying letters in Parsi names

  • Be unique

  • Have a powerful meaning or be a name I make up

  • Have at least 1-2 other letters from my given name as a way to maintain connection with it

  • Sound pretty to my ears

  • Look pretty to my eyes (when I read it)

  • Avoid anglicizicing, and even the perception of it

  • Have my mom and dad’s blessing

Why Amruza

• I’m at a point and period in my life where I want to actively choose who I want to be and how I move through life. I’m calling in new beginnings and so while I’ve thought about changing my name for a long time, this moment feels perfect.

• I love that I created it.

• I was looking for Farsi words and stumbled upon “emruz” which means “today.”

  • Ruz (pronounced like the word ruse in English) means “day”

  • Em means “this” in this context

  • “Am” is actually used in Farsi as shorthand for “hastam” which means “I am”

    • For example, “narahat” means upset – “narahat hastam” is a formal way to say “I am upset,” but informally you’d say “narahatam”

• I added the “a” at the end as an homage to my beloved Rihana (my soul dog), as one more way to always keep her with me (I originally thought of using just Amruz).

• I love the meaning “I am today” because:

  • I’ve struggled with my place on this earth, so this name reminds me that I’m surviving

  • Being present is one of the most important qualities I’m working to integrate into my daily life, it’s the antidote to so much of my suffering

  • Amruza feels aspirational, while also serving as a reminder

• Side note: I love my last name. People often ask me if it’s real and it is. I feel like my last name is absolutely perfect for me and I wanted to feel that joy with my first name too.

Additional resources

• If you don’t know how to pronounce someone’s name just ask! It’s always best to ask than guess and say it wrong – don’t be embarrassed. It’s OK if you have to ask more than once how to say someone’s name.

  • And if someone corrects you, thank them. Remember, it’s on you to say someone else’s name correctly.

• Getting it right; why pronouncing names correctly matters TEDx; Gerardo Ochoa (13 minutes)

  • This brilliant TED talk goes into four ways people respond to mispronouncing your name. Which one are you? (I’ve experienced each and every one of these at least 500 times each).

    • Calibrator: The person who will slow down, listen carefully, and attempt to say your name. They may get it wrong, but they’ll keep trying until they get it, even if it’s a day later – they may even double-check that they’re still saying it right weeks later. Always strive to be a calibrator.

    • Fumble mumbler: The person who fumbles to try and get your name right, they’re nervous and settle for a close approximation of your name.

    • Arrogant mangler: This person doesn’t care to get your name right. They’re oblivious to the fact that they mispronounced it, and if you try to correct them, they’ll continue to use whatever name they gave you.

    • Evader: The person who wants to avoid using your name altogether.

      • When I introduce myself, they say things like “Do you have a nickname?” or “I’m never going to be able to say that!” or “Can I just call you XXX?” – they do whatever they can to avoid needing to say your name altogether which creates a feeling of invisibility.

  • You will make mistakes — it’s what you do after the mistake that matters most

  • 3 tips on what to do when you mispronounce someone’s name:

    • Humble yourself, don’t center yourself

      • Ask for help

      • Acknowledge that you can’t pronounce it

      • Know it’s okay that the other person sees you struggling

    • When you see someone else say another person’s name incorrectly, be an active bystander and help correct them, it helps lighten the burden

    • Do something, but don’t be arrogant

      • It’s important that you try — until you succeed — to say someone’s name how they ask you to say it

      • Do not try to change someone else’s name or offer a nickname if you’re first meeting them

• Code Switch: Comics Maz Jobrani and Aparna Nancherla On Their ‘Difficult’ Names NPR (24 minutes)

  • They discussed the feeling I’ve had my whole life that my name was an imposition and hearing it said correctly was an unreasonable ask of people.

  • When power dynamics are present e.g. like with a funder or my boss, I’d refrain from correcting a mispronunciation even though it’s my name (!!).

  • Why it’s hard to correct folks who’ve been saying your name incorrectly for years

  • I learned about this study that found that people with “difficult to pronounce names” are seen as less trustworthy.

• The racist practice of mispronouncing names KUOW (14 minutes)

  • This NPR affiliate articulated so much of what I’ve felt about my name over the years, but was unable to find words for. If you’ve struggled with feeling uncomfortable with your name this is a poignant listen.

• Key & Peele - Substitute Teacher (3 minutes)

  • An absolutely hilarious take on pretty much every time roll call occurred from 1st- 12th grade. Watching this was extremely cathartic (which is why I’ve watched it 20+ times) – every time I think, “I wish I had this teacher.” LOL