And Why They’re Usually Wrong?

In a recent piece, Sonja Lyubomirsky captures something I see often in leadership coaching: the quiet, persistent avoidance of “saying the hard thing.” Her reflection on what researchers call the perspective gap – the mismatch between how bad it feels to say something difficult and how it actually lands with the person hearing it – deserves a permanent spot in every leader’s mental toolkit.

The truth is, most leaders are not struggling with whether to have a difficult conversation, they’re struggling with the story they’ve written about how it will go.

Lyubomirsky’s personal anecdote about saying something aloud that she was embarrassed about is beautifully simple: she braces herself, anticipates judgment, finally speaks, and is met with a shrug and “Oh. That’s it? Thanks for telling me.” 

How often are we punished more by the fear of something happening than the reality?

In my coaching work, the answer is, constantly.

I’ve worked with more than a few senior leaders who have delayed giving employees candid feedback for fear of it crushing their confidence. This is especially true with high-performers, who are doing a lot really well, but who need a little polishing or adjusting. For weeks or months, the leader rehearses the conversation in their head and, in every imaginary version, the employee shuts down, disengages, or storms out.

But almost to a person, when the leader finally says it (with care), the employee’s response is, “Thank you, that’s really helpful.”

That’s the perspective gap IRL (“in real life” to the kids these days). Leaders experience unnecessary dread, guilt, and imagined fallout, and their employees experience helpful coaching.

Take another example: a founder avoiding telling their co-founder they feel sidelined in decision-making (discomfort between partners or “equals” happens all the time). The internal narrative is dramatic: This will blow up the partnership. She’s going to hate me. How can we possibly work together after I tell her? The external reality, more often than not, is surprisingly grounded, again, when handled with care.

What’s happening here, psychologically, is what Lyubomirsky describes: when we are the speaker, we are immersed in emotion; our brain highlights risk, amplifies embarrassment, and fills in worst-case scenarios with cinematic detail. But the listener isn’t inside that emotional storm; they’re simply receiving information (and haven’t spent weeks getting worked up about it).

You’re projecting your fear

This is where I tell my clients: “You’re projecting your fear and spending unnecessary energy on something that may never materialize.”

This message usually lands because most leaders pride themselves on being rational, yet here they are, making decisions based on untested assumptions.

The cost of this avoidance is not neutral. As Lyubomirsky notes, even “small, quiet, everyday secrecy” erodes well-being and relationships. In leadership contexts, it also erodes trust, clarity, and performance. Teams can feel when something is unsaid. Silence creates its own kind of noise.

One of my favourite exercises with clients is simple. I ask them to write down:

• What they’re avoiding saying
• What they predict will happen if they say it
• The likelihood their prediction is right
• What else might happen

That last question is where the shift begins. Because once you widen the lens, you start to see that your original prediction is just one possibility, and often not the most likely one.

I also encourage a reframe that aligns with Lyubomirsky’s research: instead of focusing on the potential discomfort of the conversation, focus on the potential relief afterward. Leaders who make this shift tend to act sooner and with more composure.

Yes, sometimes conversations are still uncomfortable. The perspective gap doesn’t mean everything goes smoothly, but it does mean we systematically overestimate how bad it will be and underestimate our capacity to handle it.

A gentle provocation

What conversation are you avoiding because you’ve already decided how it will go?

And what if that prediction is wrong?

Most people aren’t waiting to judge you; they’re waiting for you to be real with them. And when you are, the response is often far closer to “Oh. That’s it?” than your imagination would have you believe.