The Conversation You're Avoiding: 8 Practical Ways to Say What Needs to be Said

Why honest feedback feels so uncomfortable, and how to say what needs to be said

Let's be honest. Most of us would rather fake our own disappearance than give someone honest, constructive feedback.

There's a very specific kind of dread that comes with knowing you need to tell someone that something isn't working. You rehearse the conversation in your head. You soften it, then soften it again, and decide now isn't quite the right time. Perhaps tomorrow. Then suddenly three weeks have passed, you're still annoyed, and they have absolutely no idea there is even a problem.

Sound familiar?

As a leadership and team coach specialising in communication, I see this all the time. One of the biggest barriers to teams working brilliantly together isn't a lack of talent, commitment or good intentions. It's that people avoid telling each other the truth.

We're usually pretty comfortable telling people when they're doing something well. Positive feedback feels good to give and, unsurprisingly, pretty good to receive. It's the other kind we struggle with: the I need to tell you something you might not particularly enjoy hearing kind. And there's actually a reason it feels so uncomfortable.

Your brain would quite like you to avoid the whole thing

Part of the problem is that our brains are incredibly good at keeping us safe. Unfortunately, they can sometimes be a little over enthusiastic about the job.

Humans are social creatures. Being accepted by other people matters to us, so situations involving judgement, potential rejection or conflict can be processed by the brain as socially threatening. Research into social-evaluative threat shows that being judged or evaluated by others can produce very real physiological and neurological stress responses.

In other words, your brain doesn't necessarily respond to "I need to tell Dave that the way he spoke to me in yesterday's meeting wasn't OK" with "Excellent. A useful opportunity for open dialogue and professional growth." It is far more likely to respond with something along the lines of "DANGER. DANGER. AVOID. AVOID."

So your heart beats faster, your mouth goes dry, and you imagine all the ways the conversation could go horribly wrong. What if they get defensive? What if they get upset? What if they don't like me afterwards? What if I say it badly, and it becomes a whole thing?

And then your brain offers you a lovely immediate solution: don't do it. The relief is instant. But...The problem is still there.

Avoiding the conversation doesn't avoid the problem

We often tell ourselves we're staying quiet because we're being kind. I don't want to upset them. It's probably not worth mentioning. I'll let it go. Sometimes that genuinely is the right decision. Not every irritation requires a summit meeting.

But when something is affecting you, another person, the work or the wider team, repeatedly avoiding it isn't kindness. It's avoidance. And avoidance has a habit of leaking, into our tone, our body language, the way we behave towards someone. The slightly sharper-than-necessary email. The "it's totally fine" that is very clearly not totally fine. Eventually, we may even start talking to other people about the person instead of talking to the person themselves. Now we haven't protected the relationship at all. We've started damaging it.

So how do we get better at saying the thing that needs to be said?

1. Ask. Don't ambush.

Please don't pounce on somebody next to the photocopier with "Can I just give you some feedback?", particularly if you then expect them to process something difficult while holding 200 sheets of A4 and trying to remember where they've left their coffee.

Ask instead: "There's something I'd like us to talk about. Is now a good time?" It might be a good time for you to give the feedback, but the other person could be hanging on by a thread. Giving somebody some choice about when and where a conversation happens can help create the conditions for them to actually hear what you're saying, because it's not always what we say that causes a conversation to go badly. Sometimes it's when, where and how we choose to say it.

2. Clear is kind

When we're nervous, we have a tendency to become incredibly vague. We hint, we waffle, we cushion, and we hope the other person will somehow join the dots and save us from having to say the actual thing. They often don't.

Clarity is kinder. That doesn't mean being brutal, it means being specific. "You're disorganised" isn't specific helpful feedback; "you've been late three times this week" is. "You don't seem committed" is an interpretation; "you've missed the last two deadlines we agreed" is something you can actually discuss. Lose the dramatic sweeping statements involving words like always, never, everyone thinks..., and stick to the actual facts about their behaviour, what they did, and when.

3. Talk about what they did, not who they are

This distinction matters enormously. "You're disorganised" is about who I am. "You've arrived late to our last three meetings" is about something I've done. One feels like an attack on my character; the other gives us a behaviour we can actually talk about and, importantly, something I have the power to change.

Whenever possible, keep feedback focused on observable behaviour rather than personality. People can change what they do. It's considerably harder to know what to do with a judgement about who you apparently are.

4. Explain why it matters

This is the bit people often miss. We assume the other person knows the impact of their behaviour. They often don't, so explain it: "I've noticed you've arrived late to our last three meetings. which means we're then starting late and not getting through everything we need to."

Now I understand not just what the problem is, but why it matters. Behaviour plus impact.

5. Get curious

This might be the most important part. Once you've said what you need to say, stop talking. Feedback shouldn't be something you do to another person. It's the beginning of a conversation. Ask: "What's your perspective?" or "Help me understand what's been happening." Then actually listen to the answer.

We are brilliant at creating stories about other people's behaviour: they don't care, they're lazy, they're disrespectful, they always do this. But those are interpretations, not facts, and there may be information you don't have. Curiosity creates space for that information to emerge.

And that matters because the moment someone feels judged or attacked, the conversation changes. Their brain becomes less interested in helping you understand and much more interested in protecting them. They explain, justify, shut down or fight back. And now you're not having an open conversation you're having a defensive one. ApproachI with curiosity does something different. It says: Help me understand. Tell me what I might be missing. What's going on here? It lowers the sense of threat and makes it much easier for someone to stay in the conversation, think with you and crucially , tell you the truth.

Because if we genuinely want to understand someone's behaviour, we have to create a conversation in which they feel safe enough to explain it..

6. Work out what happens next

A good feedback conversation shouldn't end with somebody feeling as though you've dropped a grenade into their day and wandered off. There needs to be an "okay, so what do we do from here?" moment. What needs to change? What would better look like? What are we agreeing to? And if you're their manager: "what do you need from me?"

Feedback should ultimately help someone move forward. Otherwise, what's the point?

7. Ditch the feedback sandwich

You know the one: "You're doing such a brilliant job. Everyone loves having you around. You're consistently missing deadlines and it's creating loads of additional work for everybody else. But your PowerPoints are flipping gorgeous." Nobody is fooled. Stop with the feedback butties...This is an important conversation, not a meal deal.

That doesn't mean positive feedback isn't important. Quite the opposite. Give lots of it. Notice people. Tell them when they've done something well, thank them, and tell them the impact they've had. Be generous with genuine appreciation. Just don't save praise up so you can use it as bread when you've got a difficult filling to deliver. When people regularly feel seen and valued by us, they can receive constructive feedback more comfortably because sits within a much stronger relationship.

8. Choose courage over comfort

This is one of my abiding mantras: courage over comfort. You can choose comfort in the moment and avoid saying what needs to be said, or you can choose a little discomfort now in service of a healthier relationship later.

I see this in my own life. When my husband tells me something I don't particularly want to hear, do I always immediately think what a wonderful, emotionally intelligent man, thank god I married someone prepared to offer me such valuable developmental feedback? No. Sometimes my first reaction is, he's an idiot, and there may be a short period of me walking round the house giving him side-eye. But when the dust settles, do I respect the fact that he'll tell me the truth about how he feels? Yes. Do I trust him more because I know he'll tell me the truth rather than quietly resent me? Absolutely. That's the trade-off. Sometimes honesty creates discomfort before it creates trust.

Your voice is allowed to wobble (and it probably will a bit)

Perhaps you're reading this thinking that's all very well, Laura, I still don't want to do it. Fair enough. Knowing how the brain works doesn't magically make difficult conversations feel comfortable, and neither does reading eight tips in a blog. Having honest conversations is a skill, and like any skill, the only way we become better at it is by practising it.

The first few times might feel messy. You might stumble over your words, or not phrase something perfectly. Your heart might race, and your voice might wobble. That's OK. Courage isn't the absence of discomfort. Sometimes courage is simply deciding that the conversation matters enough to have it anyway.

So think about your own work right now. Is there a conversation you're avoiding? Something you've been rehearsing in your head but haven't actually said? Something you're talking around, or perhaps talking to other people about, instead of talking to the person concerned?

Maybe this is the week to have it. Take a breath. Be clear. Be kind. Stay curious. And say the thing.

Because on the other side of an honest conversation there is the possibility of something avoidance can never give us: clarity, understanding, trust and real change.