Hey Friend,

You can always trust me to be honest with you, so here goes...

The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster over here. Just today, I have felt giddy excitement about the conversations happening on the ChatGMB summer series (Spotify | Apple), deep gratitude for the clients who keep saying yes to working with me, fear about the future, doubt that I'm "good enough," certainty that I'm doing exactly the work I'm supposed to be doing, grief about things happening in the world, joy about life transitions, and honestly, exhausted by feeling all of these things before lunchtime.

Sound familiar? Perhaps you're on a rollercoaster of your own. It's not unusual, and there's nothing wrong with you.

I'm sharing because this wide and complex range of human emotions is normal, and because every single person on your team (or in your orbit) is riding their own version of the "being human" rollercoaster right now. The uncertainty about job security or advancement opportunities. The diagnosis they haven't mentioned. The world news they doom-scrolled at 2 am. The feedback you gave them last Tuesday that they're still turning over in their head and figuring out what to do with. Life.

So many of the ups and downs and loop-di-loops are invisible. Yet, all of it shows up in the room, in our conversations, in our work product, and in our relationships.

We cannot lead humans well while pretending the rollercoaster isn't there.

And we also can't let the rollercoaster run the show, no matter how scary or loud it may be.

That's the both/and at the heart of everything I teach:

Feelings AND emotional integrity. Compassion AND accountability. Authenticity AND boundaries. Your emotions are welcome here, AND our commitments still matter.

Here are a few quick thoughts on this that may be helpful today.

Step 1: You have to recognize your own ride.

Before you can respond well to anyone else's big emotions, you have to know what's happening on your own track. Unacknowledged and unnamed feelings don't disappear because you swallow them down and pretend you're fine; they leak into our emails, our relationships, our feedback, our meetings, our perceptions, and of course, our work.

This week, try naming your rollercoaster out loud to yourself or to someone you trust:

"Today I am feeling ___ and ___ and ___. The impact is ___ and ___ and ___"

That's it. That's the practice. Emotional integrity at work starts with telling yourself the truth. You've gotta name it to tame it.

Step 2: You have to know what to do when someone else's rollercoaster is derailing the work.

We've all been there. Someone on the team is venting without taking ownership, going silent in meetings, pushing back on everything, or letting their (very real, very valid) feelings become a reason that work isn't happening or isn't happening well.

Many leaders either avoid saying or doing anything in these moments (compassion without accountability) or crack down on it with punishment or threat (accountability without compassion). Both of those strategies make it worse.

Instead, if you find yourself in this seat, I invite you to lean into curiosity. Questions are one way we can hold paradox, honor humans AND keep our work on track. Here are some of my favorite questions when the rollercoasters are zipping around you, and you're trying to find your way back to forward movement and level ground.

Noticing:

• I'm noticing [specific, observable thing — 'you've been quiet in our last two meetings' / 'that deadline passed without a heads up']. What's going on for you?
• It sounds like you're feeling ___. Help me understand what's coming up for you.​
• We all want to feel heard and understood. What do you need me to understand right now?

Inviting responsibility (without shame):

• What part of this feels like yours to own? What part feels like it belongs to someone else?
• What part of this feels most within your control? What feels out of your control?
• What would help us shift toward solutions?
• What would make ___ feel more workable?​

Moving forward:

• How do you want to handle the impact this has had on the team?
• What would make it easier for us to move forward together?​
• What's one thing you can do differently, and one thing you need from me?
• I’m sensing that you may be feeling [sad/angry/agitated] and I get it. What might help us prevent this in the future?

Stabilizing when the temperature is too high:

• I can tell this matters a lot. Would it help to take a breath or a break and come back to this with fresh eyes?
• Let’s pause and reset. I want us to stay on the same team.
• What would feel most supportive to you right now? Let’s focus on getting our needs met before we move on​

Notice what these questions do. They don't pretend feelings aren't real or valid, they don't dismiss the person and remove their agency, and they don't let big feelings become the whole story. That's the art of compassionate accountability: I care about you, AND I care about this work. I'm not choosing.

Want to get really good (or much better) at this?

This is exactly what the Compassionate Accountability Cohort is for.

Starting September 16, a small group of people managers, team leaders, and executives will spend seven months together learning to navigate the messy middle between supporting humans and maintaining high expectations. The program includes:

• Six live virtual workshops.
• Two one-on-one coaching sessions with me, including a debrief of your very own Conflict Dynamics Profile.
• Peer support circles.
• Real tools, immediately applicable frameworks, and safe practice spaces.

We have three pricing tiers because equity and accessibility are core values around here, and only a $50 deposit holds your spot.

SAVE YOUR SEAT → https://bit.ly/compassionate-accountability-cohort-26​

Registration closes August 31.

Not sure yet? Hit reply and ask me anything, or book a connection call.

Riding the rollercoaster right alongside you (screams, cheers, belly flops and all),
Marissa