Support, not solutions
A few nights ago, our family was in the middle of one of those good dinner conversations, the kind where everyone's actually talking. My youngest daughter was excitedly sharing some things happening in her life. And me, being me, kept offering "the other perspective." I'd interject with a suggestion here, a reframe there, helpfully steering things toward a better outcome.
She finally stopped me cold.
She wanted support, not solutions. She wanted me to hear her, not fix her.
Fair enough.
Here's the thing about people wired like me: I love a good problem. I can spot multiple angles on a situation faster than most, and I genuinely believe that bringing objectivity to the table leads to better outcomes. What I sometimes forget is that not every situation is asking for a fixer.
This is one of the hardest habits for leaders to break. We watch our teams heading down a path, we see a sharper route forward, and we step in - thinking we're just being helpful, keeping things on track. And maybe we are. But in those moments, we're also quietly stealing something from them: the chance to navigate it themselves, stumble if they need to, and grow because of it.
It's even harder as a parent. The stakes feel higher. The ownership runs deeper. Some part of us quietly worries that their struggles are a reflection on us, or that they're veering off the path we've imagined for them. So we intervene. We redirect. We fix.
But what my daughter reminded me that night was simple: sometimes the most powerful thing you can offer isn't a solution. It's just a witness. An ear. A nod that says, I see you, and I'm with you.
I recently came across a six-step model for encouraging without fixing, and it reframed how I think about showing up for people, whether that's my team or my kids.
1. Start with encouragement.
Before anything else, acknowledge the person in front of you. People are far more open - to feedback, to growth, to you - when they feel genuinely seen and valued first. A simple "I'm proud of how you handled that" or "You've come a long way on this" sets a completely different tone than diving straight into what needs to change.
2. Expect of others what you expect of yourself.
People have finely tuned radar for double standards. If you hold others to benchmarks you wouldn't apply to yourself, they'll feel it, and they'll resist. Lead with the same standard you'd want held up to your own work.
3. Calibrate expectations to the person, not the ideal.
Expectations that ignore someone's skill level, experience, or where they are in their journey aren't high standards, they're just unfair ones. Be patient with those who are still learning. Meet people where they actually are, not where you wish they were.
4. Stay flexible as circumstances shift.
Expectations that made sense last quarter, or last year, might not fit today. Check in with yourself: are you still holding people to a standard that reflects current reality? In that moment with my daughter, she didn't need Mr. Objective. She needed her dad.
5. Make your expectations clear.
People can't hit a target no one's named. And beyond clarity, consider how you show up; because some moments demand a different version of you based on where the other person is emotionally. Reading the room isn't soft. It's strategic.
6. End with encouragement.
Close the loop. Thank people specifically for what they did well, not a generic "great job," but a real acknowledgment of the effort, the growth, or the way they handled something hard. That specificity is what actually lands.
Put down the wrench
I didn't fully fix the situation with my daughter that night, but I did stop trying to. I just listened. And honestly? That felt like its own kind of progress.
The best leaders, and the best parents, know when to put down the wrench. Not every moment needs a repair. Sometimes the most important thing you can do is simply show up and stay.
