I lost it. For the first time in my startup, I actually lost my temper on an employee while on a call. Not in my head, not quietly under my breath AFTER the call but right there, on the call, in front of them. I could literally hear the employee’s quiet shock.
The pressure had been building for weeks. I was stretched thin, we missed so many deadlines, feeling like nothing was moving fast enough. Then something small tipped me over. And instead of doing what I’ve always done: go get a drink, play video games, hit the gym. Instead I snapped. It was different from my usual animated loudness, raising my voice, or stern tone. I really let her have it. My voice got sharp, my words cut, and the moment I hung up, I felt sick.
I’m embarrassed. Not just because it happened, but because it’s the one thing I never did in the years I have led. I’ve been on the receiving end on this type of temper from my past work leaders and even my own family. I used to project the same type of energy but never in my professional career. Shit. I couldn’t walk it back. And the worst part was I apologized to the employee so poorly afterwards in a manner I couldn’t explain what happened. The employee played it off like it wasn’t a big deal
They resigned literally a few days after the incident. And here’s the truth: It’s been 10 days now and I still don’t even know how to apologize properly. Every time I tried to draft something, it felt hollow, performative, or too little too late. So I froze. Which, in its own way, probably hurt more.
I keep replaying the call. I heard my own voice. I kept thinking, why couldn’t you just hold it together for five more minutes? That’s all it would have taken. Five more minutes of patience, and maybe we’d both be in a different place.
I spoke to one of my past managers and mentors about this. They just said it happens more than I think behind closed doors and chalked it up as “it happens”. The incident is still fresh and I’m still young and learning. I hear them but instead, I’m here, sitting with guilt I don’t know how to process. I know there’s a lesson somewhere in all this, be it about leadership, about pressure, about humanity as dramatic as it sounds. But right now, I can’t see it clearly. All I see is that I failed someone who trusted me to be better than that.
This isn’t a story with a bow on it. It’s not a clean “failure that made me stronger” lesson. It’s just me, writing it down because the shame feels heavy and maybe by putting it into words, I can start to let it move through me.
Maybe one day I’ll understand the full lesson. For now, I just know I don’t want to feel this way again.
Welcome to NYC, Tourists
July 28, 2015