Several years ago, a colleague gave me some unforgettable feedback. We had been vetting a potential client together over coffee, listening to this leader’s challenges and building a rapport. Walking back to our cars, my (much more experienced) colleague said, “Sarah, you laughed too much in that exchange. I didn’t know where your edges were.” 

I didn’t know where your edges were. 

Of course I want to be experienced as kind, curious, empathetic, warm-hearted, and approachable. But I also want people in my orbit to know what I stand for, what my boundaries are, what they’re going to get when they trust me or interact with me. I think about our little robot vacuum and how it knows where the floor ends, and the stairs begin. It would be chaos around here if it didn’t!   

Having an edge might sound like:  

  • I don’t share your perspective on that. 
  • I’d like to push back on that. 
  • I’m not adding any new commitments to my calendar this month. 
  • My practice around this is… 
  • I’d prefer to have this conversation in-person. 
  • This is something that’s non-negotiable for me. 
  • Can I share how I experience you? 

Certainly, there are moments, with family and close friends, where I’m not paying attention to edges. I’m in the flow, I’m choosing to let things go. And I try to have as many things as possible in the “let go” category, especially if someone else has agreed to take on responsibility for a task. That’s my cue to ride it out.  

But I will always have edges around justice, truth, respect, and my own energy management. Another wise colleague gave me this advice early in my consulting practice: “You should find a way to gently challenge every potential client, so they know to expect that with you.” When I haven’t done this, I have regretted it. I’ve ended up fielding texts late at night, committing to things I don’t fully support, and ultimately losing respect for the person or group that I should have set more boundaries with. And that’s not fair to them! 

I talked recently with a client group about why “niceness” isn’t the goal. Niceness is based on fear—fear of rejection, fear of conflict. And I don’t find it trustworthy. Things I’d much rather have said about me: 

  • She’s straightforward. 
  • When I’m with her, I feel that she is really with me. 
  • I don’t always agree with her, but I know she will be honest with me. 
  • She doesn’t major in the minors. 
  • It’s easy to see what’s important to her. 
  • She is fierce about justice, equity, and inclusion.  
  • She’s very interested in what my experience is and doesn’t put words in my mouth. 

Find some little way this week to feel and show your own edges. I recently toured the National Museum of African American History and Culture in D.C. and a new mantra for myself is, “If Harriet Tubman can conduct the underground railroad, I can be uncomfortable!” Let’s do this together.