Why the Need to Be Understood Makes Leadership Harder
When someone misunderstands your intentions or questions your decisions, you may feel a surprisingly strong urge to explain yourself. But needing people to see you a certain way can quietly influence how you run your business.
There's a particular kind of discomfort that comes from knowing someone has the wrong impression of you.
Perhaps a client has questioned a decision you made. Someone has interpreted your words in a way you never intended. Or you've held a reasonable boundary, only to discover the other person thinks you've been difficult or unfair.
You know why you made the decision. You believe you acted thoughtfully and responsibly.
But they see it differently.
And now you find yourself replaying the conversation, drafting another explanation or wondering what you could say to make them understand.
For business owners and leaders, this can become more than an uncomfortable interaction. The need to be understood can quietly shape how we make decisions, respond to criticism and manage other people's expectations.
Not because we're incapable of handling disagreement, but because being seen as capable, fair and dependable may have become an important part of how we understand ourselves.
Why being misunderstood feels so personal:
I was recently at Uluru, a sacred site in central Australia, when I witnessed a small interaction that stayed with me.
At the airport souvenir shop, two women were arguing with a staff member about the price of a bag they'd purchased.
They believed they'd been overcharged and were clearly unhappy.
The staff member offered to refund the difference, but the women were so focused on what had gone wrong that they initially seemed unable to hear her.
Eventually, they accepted the refund, although they continued complaining about the service.
When it was my turn, the staff member greeted me, looking embarrassed.
I said something along the lines of, "Sometimes things are outside your control, and you still get blamed."
I don't know whether she took the encounter personally. Perhaps she'd forgotten about it five minutes later.
But it reminded me how difficult it can be when someone decides we're in the wrong, particularly when we believe we've done nothing wrong.
Being blamed doesn't necessarily mean you've made a mistake.
And yet, when someone thinks badly of us, we often feel compelled to change their mind.
The hidden connection between our identity and other people's opinions:
Most of us have an idea of the kind of person we're trying to be.
Perhaps you think of yourself as thoughtful, fair, reliable and conscientious. Someone who works hard, takes responsibility and does what she says she'll do.
These qualities may have contributed significantly to your success.
You've built relationships through being dependable. You've earned trust by delivering on your commitments. You've developed a reputation for caring about the quality of your work.
Over time, these qualities can become more than professional strengths.
They become part of your identity.
And when someone sees you differently, their opinion can feel like a challenge to something fundamental about who you are.
A client who thinks you've been unreasonable isn't simply disagreeing with a decision. It can feel as though they're questioning whether you're a reasonable person.
Someone who calls you unreliable may seem to be dismissing years of effort to be someone others can count on.
Intellectually, you might recognise that another person's interpretation isn't necessarily accurate.
But that doesn't always make it easier to accept.
You don't just want them to understand what happened.
You want them to understand you.
And this is where the need to be understood can become a problem.
How the need for approval influences business decisions:
The desire to be seen positively isn't inherently a weakness. Caring about our relationships, reputation and impact on others is part of being a responsible business owner.
The difficulty arises when we begin making decisions to avoid someone else's disapproval rather than because those decisions are right for the business.
Sometimes this is obvious.
You might agree to additional work outside a client's scope because you don't want them to think you're unhelpful.
You might soften a necessary conversation because you don't want someone to perceive you as demanding.
Or you might spend far longer than necessary explaining a decision, hoping that if you find exactly the right words, the other person will finally see your reasoning.
Other times, it's much subtler.
You might delay making a decision because you anticipate how someone could react. You might second-guess a boundary that you were perfectly comfortable with until someone expressed disappointment.
None of these behaviours necessarily looks like seeking approval from the outside.
They can look like excellent service, conscientious leadership or a commitment to maintaining strong relationships.
And sometimes that's exactly what they are.
The distinction lies in what's driving them.
Are you making a thoughtful decision based on what the situation requires?
Or are you trying to prevent someone from thinking badly of you?
That difference matters because the second approach gives other people's reactions a disproportionate influence over how you run your business.
Why explaining yourself doesn't always bring relief:
When someone misunderstands us, explaining ourselves is often a perfectly reasonable response.
Miscommunication happens. Clients need context. People sometimes make assumptions based on incomplete information.
A clear explanation can resolve a misunderstanding and strengthen a relationship.
But there comes a point when explaining stops being about providing useful information and starts being about trying to control the other person's opinion.
You may have already explained your reasoning.
You may have acknowledged their disappointment, considered their feedback and taken responsibility for anything you could have handled differently.
And still, they don't agree with you.
This is often the point where the discomfort intensifies.
Because the conversation is no longer necessarily about finding a solution.
It's about wanting the other person to see you differently so that you can feel better about yourself.
If they could just understand why I did that, they'd realise I'm not being unreasonable.
If I explain it one more time, perhaps they'll see that I was trying to do the right thing.
The problem is that you cannot guarantee this outcome.
Someone can understand your explanation and still disagree with your decision.
They can appreciate your intentions and still feel disappointed.
They can have an incomplete or inaccurate impression of you, even after you've done everything reasonable to clarify the situation.
And if your peace of mind depends on changing their opinion, you're waiting for something you don't control.
The leadership cost of trying to manage perceptions:
Leadership requires us to make decisions that won't always be welcomed.
There will be times when a client wants something you cannot reasonably provide, when a team member disagrees with your expectations or when someone is disappointed by a direction you've chosen.
You can approach these situations with care, fairness and integrity.
You can listen, explain your reasoning and remain open to being wrong.
But you cannot ensure everyone will approve of your decisions.
When approval becomes a condition for feeling confident, leadership becomes considerably more exhausting.
Instead of evaluating a decision according to its merits, you may find yourself evaluating it according to how people are likely to respond.
Instead of trusting that you've communicated clearly enough, you continue explaining.
Instead of allowing someone to be disappointed, you look for ways to remove their disappointment, even when doing so comes at a cost to you or your business.
This can consume time and attention that would be better directed towards meaningful work.
More importantly, it can gradually weaken your trust in your own judgement.
You begin looking outside yourself for reassurance that you've made the right decision.
And the more you rely on that reassurance, the harder it can become to act without it.
Why better communication isn't always the answer:
Much of the conventional advice about handling difficult conversations focuses on improving communication.
Be clearer. Listen more carefully. Explain your reasoning. Choose your words thoughtfully.
All of this can be useful.
But better communication cannot solve every disagreement.
Sometimes you've communicated well and the other person still doesn't like what you've said.
Sometimes you've made a fair decision and someone still feels they've been treated unfairly.
Sometimes there is nothing more to explain.
The challenge isn't a lack of communication skills.
It's your ability to tolerate the discomfort of someone holding an opinion of you that you don't agree with.
This is a different kind of work.
It asks you to notice the point at which your desire to resolve a situation becomes a desire to resolve how you feel about yourself.
And to consider whether another explanation is genuinely needed, or whether you're hoping it will remove the discomfort of being misunderstood.
How to stop needing everyone to understand your decisions:
There's an idea from Byron Katie's work that I've found helpful: much of our suffering comes from arguing with reality.
When someone misunderstands us, we can spend an enormous amount of energy resisting the fact that they see things differently.
They shouldn't think that about me.
They should know me better than that.
If they'd listened properly, they would understand.
But the reality is that they think what they think.
We might wish they saw things differently. We might have good reasons for believing they're mistaken.
Neither changes what they currently believe.
Accepting this doesn't mean agreeing with them or giving up the opportunity to resolve a misunderstanding.
It simply means recognising that their opinion belongs to them.
You can take responsibility for your behaviour, but you cannot take responsibility for how every person interprets it.
For business owners, this can create an important shift.
Rather than asking, How can I make them understand that I've done the right thing?, you can ask, Have I acted in a way I can stand behind?
Have I listened to their concerns?
Have I considered whether there's something I need to take responsibility for?
Have I explained what matters, clearly and respectfully?
If the answer is yes, perhaps there's nothing more required of you.
The other person may still be disappointed.
They may still disagree.
And you can allow that to be true without abandoning your own judgement.
Being open to feedback without making it a verdict on your worth:
There's another interesting consequence of becoming more comfortable with being misunderstood.
It can make us better at receiving criticism.
When we experience someone's disapproval as a threat to our identity, it's natural to become defensive.
We want to prove that we're thoughtful, capable or fair. We look for reasons why the other person is mistaken.
But when we no longer need their opinion to confirm who we are, we have more room to consider what they're actually saying.
Perhaps their criticism contains something useful.
Perhaps there's an aspect of the situation you hadn't considered.
Perhaps you did make a mistake.
Or perhaps their expectations were unreasonable, and your decision was still the right one.
You don't have to dismiss their perspective to protect yourself.
And you don't have to agree with it to demonstrate that you're willing to listen.
You can take responsibility for what's yours and leave the rest.
This is a valuable capacity in leadership because it allows you to remain both accountable and independent.
You can be influenced by good feedback without being governed by every opinion.
Becoming a leader who can tolerate being misunderstood:
I suspect this is particularly difficult for women who've spent years building their success through being conscientious, responsible and dependable.
When being good at what you do is closely connected to being seen as good at what you do, other people's disapproval can carry more weight than we realise.
And changing that relationship isn't simply a matter of deciding not to care what people think.
Nor should it be.
Relationships matter. Reputation matters. The way we affect other people matters.
But there's a difference between caring about someone's experience and needing them to approve of you.
You can care that a client is disappointed without immediately assuming you've failed them.
You can listen to criticism without treating it as a verdict on your competence.
You can make a difficult decision and accept that someone may think less of you because of it.
This doesn't mean you won't feel hurt, frustrated or uncomfortable.
It means those feelings don't have to determine what you do next.
I hope the staff member at Uluru didn't spend the rest of her day replaying that conversation, wondering what else she could have said to make those women understand.
Because sometimes people will get us wrong.
They'll misunderstand our intentions, disagree with our decisions or judge us according to information we don't have the opportunity to correct.
We can still explain ourselves when it's useful, apologise when we've made a mistake and learn from what others have to say.
But we don't have to keep trying until everyone sees us the way we'd like to be seen.
Perhaps part of becoming a more confident leader is learning to trust your own judgement, even when someone else doesn't.
Not because their opinion is irrelevant.
But because their approval doesn't have to be the condition for your peace of mind.
Much of my work explores the less visible patterns that influence how we lead and run our businesses, particularly the ways our sense of responsibility, identity and worth can shape our decisions.
Understanding these patterns can help us build businesses that are successful without requiring us to constantly prove ourselves.