I’m angry for a reason. I’ve watched smart, good people break under avoidable stress while leaders shrug and point to calendars as if busyness absolves responsibility. It doesn’t. That’s why I’m writing a book, and why I’m writing this. If I have a title, a team, or any influence at all, my job is to put well-being on the table and keep it there. Anything less is leadership theater.
Here’s the truth I can’t ignore: culture shapes mental health every day. Not just the policies and perks, the decisions, the pace, the way priorities get (or don’t get) made. If I want a team to perform sustainably, I have to do two things at once: take principled accountability for the impact of how we work, and make room for real human beings to show up as they are. That’s not soft. It’s serious management.
What I expect from myself as a leader
I start by making well-being a standing agenda item. I don’t let status or speed become an excuse to avoid the conversation. I ask, in plain language:
What is our aim?
What’s our ambition?
What’s our strategy?
What outcomes do we expect in the next three months?
When I’m clear on those, I can help people prioritize and set boundaries. Without that clarity, every task looks urgent and every person feels alone.
I act as a sparring partner, not just a task allocator. I help teammates decide what not to do. I normalize boundaries. And before diving into work, I check in. “How are you coming into this meeting, good day, bad day, somewhere in between?” It’s not small talk; it’s context. If someone’s depleted, that’s data I need to adjust scope, support, or sequence.
Data-informed empathy that actually helps
One of the simplest, most effective practices I use looks almost childish, and it works. Each person has their name on a board with a simple line they can move daily along a scale from “feeling very good” to “feeling very bad.” At the end of the week, I see an emotional map of the team.
Every Friday, we talk about it briefly. Not to judge, and not to pry. We connect the dots: How did our emotional state affect our performance? What helped? What hurt? What should we change next week? It’s light-touch measurement with immediate action, no surveillance, no vanity dashboards, no over-surveying. If I’m going to ask people to share that signal, I owe them a response.
Asking for help is a performance habit
There’s a lot of sharing in today’s workplaces that isn’t real, doomscrolling in public, polished vulnerability that never risks anything. I aim for the opposite. I ask for help, and I invite others to do the same. In a trusting environment, when someone shares what’s actually going on, something close to magic happens: people stop performing and start collaborating.
This isn’t therapy, and I’m not pretending it is. But the effect is therapeutic. Friday stand-ups, where people can say “this week was heavy” or “I’m stretched too thin” change the way everyone goes home for the weekend. I don’t need to be invincible. No one does. Toughness isn’t the point: trust is.
When the team isn’t ready yet
I don’t copy-paste practices into a team that doesn’t have trust. If people don’t feel safe, the emotional map becomes theater, not progress. So I start with friction.
My method is simple and disciplined:
I map frictions. I collect them through one-on-ones and short, focused surveys. I list the behaviors, processes, and decisions that are causing harm.
I rank by harm. Which frictions are doing the most damage to focus, health, and results? Those go first.
I put the friction on the table. No euphemisms. We name them, own them, and commit to addressing them.
I teach listening. Active and empathic listening are skills, not personality traits. I practice with the team: reflect, check for understanding, and hold your rebuttal.
I teach questions that seek to understand, not to challenge. “What made that hard?” is different from “Why didn’t you…?” The intent is to learn, not to win.
I give tools to “polish” frictions. We test small changes, observe impact, and iterate.
Only after that foundation is in place do I introduce lightweight emotional tracking or more open sharing. Trust first, then transparency.
The role only I can play
Some individuals will still prioritize self-branding over team health. That happens. This is where executive alignment matters. I get the CEO on board early, because eventually I may have to ask the hard question: Are you in or out? What I won’t do is tolerate behavior that undermines safety and performance while pretending culture is fine. Accountability without consequences isn’t accountability.
What I’m doing next, and what you can do on Monday
I’m channeling my frustration into a book because I want fewer teams to suffer needlessly. In the meantime, here’s how I move from talk to action in a single week:
Make mental health a standing agenda item. Name it. Don’t bury it under “Other.”
Set shared outcomes for the next 90 days. Clarity reduces chaos.
Open meetings with a 60-second check-in. Ask how people are arriving.
Pilot the daily emotional line with volunteers. Keep it optional and act on what you learn.
Start a friction map. Gather data via three focused one-on-ones and a short survey. Pick one high-harm friction and address it now..
I’m not interested in performative care or productivity theater. I’m interested in teams that do great work without destroying themselves.
If this resonates, tell me what’s working for you, or what’s breaking? I’m listening. And I’m not taking “too busy” for an answer.
