We’ve been doing a series of trainings at work lately—mostly around supervision, and more specifically around difficult, or “fierce,” conversations (based on Susan Scott’s book Fierce Conversations).
As I reflected on the last month, I initially felt like I had failed miserably at the homework. I could come up with a couple of examples that almost qualified as fierce conversations, but I couldn’t quite sell it to myself. They felt borderline. Too soft. Not bold enough.
So I did what I often do—I asked ChatGPT for help. I described one specific conversation: the context, the details, the outcome. And what came back surprised me. It walked me through how I had engaged in a fierce conversation—just in my own way, with my own style intact. Much of my approach, especially in the early stages of these conversations, had been internal. And that internal work—examining assumptions, checking motives, clarifying intent—is fierce in its own right.
Later, as I was explaining this realization to my husband, I found myself getting emotional. I paused and asked myself why. What was sitting underneath that reaction?
What I realized was relief.
Relief that what I had labeled as failure was actually alignment. Relief that I didn’t have to abandon who I am to meet some external definition of “brave” or “direct.” Relief that honesty doesn’t have to be loud or sharp to be real.
It reminded me that I can retain my personality—my tone, my instincts, my way of communicating—and still be courageous enough to have the hard conversations. Fierceness, it turns out, doesn’t have a single sound. Sometimes it’s quiet. Sometimes it’s measured. And sometimes, it looks exactly like me.
And maybe, just maybe, the work continues with having some fierce conversations with myself—having the courage to question assumptions, and ensure I truly understand the situation; getting out of my own way; staying present; getting the hard stuff out of the way first; trusting my gut; being aware of the emotional impact of my words and actions; and allowing silence to speak for itself. Just because we’re in midlife doesn’t mean our growth is behind us; in many ways, it’s the season where self-awareness finally gives us the courage to evolve.