"You Are Complex": The Feedback That Changed Everything
Twenty-five years ago, I received feedback that turned my world upside down.
It happened during an offsite training week. You know those weeks when organisations decide they’re going all in on “creating a culture of feedback”. This was one of those.
We were in the Lake District, walking through a beautiful garden, tasked with giving each other reflections based on what we’d observed over the week.
The feedback I received was this:
"You are complex."
"I never really know what you’re thinking."
"I always feel like you’re holding back."
It landed like a punch in the stomach.
This was the final exercise of the day, and I left for the journey home with three colleagues. I cried the entire way back - big, messy, uncontrollable sobs.
It hit me so hard because it was true.
I had been holding back. I never really showed my true self, and if I’m honest, it was because I didn’t like what I saw.
The Turning Point
That feedback was a mirror, forcing me to see something I had been avoiding for years.
Up until that moment, I thought the feedback I needed to “fix” was the usual stuff introverts hear:
“Speak up more in meetings.”
“You’re too slow to react.”
(Insert every other stereotype here.)
But this wasn’t about speaking up louder or faster. This was about fear.
I was afraid of being seen. Afraid that if people really knew me, they wouldn’t like what they saw. So I hid behind a polished, professional exterior, revealing just enough to get by but never enough to feel exposed.
What I Learned
That feedback session, as painful as it was, became a turning point in my life and in my career. It taught me that the cost of holding back is far greater than the risk of being seen.
Here’s what I’ve learned since:
Complexity is not a weakness.
I used to think being “complex” was a polite way of saying I was difficult or hard to understand. But complexity is depth. It’s nuance. It’s a sign of someone who has layers, someone who’s worth getting to know.Vulnerability builds trust.
The irony of holding back is that it creates distance - the exact opposite of what I wanted. When I started to let people in, I realised vulnerability wasn’t a weakness; it was the foundation of connection.The only way to grow is to face yourself.
That week in the Lake District, I saw the version of myself I had been avoiding. It wasn’t pretty, but it was real. And real is where growth starts.
What’s Possible
Looking back, I’m grateful for that feedback, as painful as it was. It forced me to make a choice: stay hidden and safe, or step into the discomfort of being fully seen.
I chose discomfort.
That decision set me on a path of self-discovery that shaped who I am today - not just as a coach, but as a person. It’s why I believe so deeply in the power of honest feedback, even when it stings.
For anyone holding back, staying hidden may feel safe, but it also limits what’s possible. Stepping into the light may be messy and uncomfortable, but it is always worth it - eventually.