The power of a disclaimer
Right now, I’m in a very busy and energizing time in my life and career. My team and I have been working on several big projects simultaneously in addition to keeping up with the day-to-day, and we're gearing up to launch what we've been working on (I can’t wait to share it with you!). My parents just left after spending three weeks with me and Spiros in Houston. And as you read this, I’m on my annual summer vacation with my family, so I’ve spent the last few weeks preparing for that.
Between all of these things, life is full in the best way. And I'm so happy that these are the things taking up my time and energy. They're all things that I want to give my time to, that I love, and that I’ve been working toward for a long time.
But the reality is that I, like you, am just one person. And as I write this, I am at my capacity. My plate is full, and I’m just doing my best to keep all the balls I’m juggling in the air.
The thing is that I planned for this. I expected to max out my capacity in this season, so it’s not something that I'm upset about or surprised by. And I’m proud that I’ve been really intentional about managing my energy and taking care of myself, so I feel like I’m navigating it well—and yet, there are still moments when I know I’m not showing up as the person and leader I usually am.
Here’s a great example: My team and I are all remote, and we see each other on Zoom several times a week for client and team meetings. Usually, if we’re scheduled for one meeting after another, I’ll hang out with them in the gap between to chat and catch up. But these days, I’m not really doing that. To make sure I accomplish everything I need to do, I’m making every little block of time I have count, so instead of chatting with my team, I’ve been signing off and using my spare minutes to make progress. If I don’t, I know my work will creep into my evenings and take over the time I’ve reserved for family and rest.
A few weeks ago, I started to notice that I was being a little bit short with my team in these gaps between meetings. I found myself trying to rush off of calls so that I could go get some work done. I realized that I probably wasn’t being as friendly about it as I’d like to be, and I didn’t want my team to take it personally.
In our next team meeting, I decided I would do what I teach other people to do: give my team a disclaimer. A disclaimer, in this sense, is a way to be real about where you are emotionally and mentally and to acknowledge that you know how that might be affecting other people. I believe it’s one of the secrets to maintaining trust.
In the meeting, I took ownership of how I was showing up, and I explained what was behind it. I acknowledged to my team that I know I’m being a little bit intense in between meetings, and while I would normally love to stay on Zoom and catch up with them, right now, I need to prioritize getting things done. I thanked them for their grace, and I asked for their continued grace throughout this busy season of work and life.
It’s no secret how much is on my plate—there’s a lot on my team’s plates, too—so they probably already had an idea of how I was feeling and why I was showing up the way I was. Still, giving them my disclaimer felt so freeing. Part of it is that owning where you are means being authentic. It felt good to just be real about how overextended I felt and how that was affecting me. The other part is that giving my disclaimer released me of guilt. I’d been feeling guilty about using our catch-up time for other priorities, but now, they understood exactly why I needed to do that.
My team met my disclaimer with love and understanding and grace. It helped me so much, especially as I prepared for my trip, and made it so that my relationship with my team was one less thing I needed to worry about.
There’s so much power in giving a disclaimer about how you’re feeling. I think that sometimes what can happen when we show up in ways we're not proud of or that aren’t our usual style is that people make assumptions. They assume you're frustrated with them or that they’ve done something wrong. A disclaimer gets ahead of those assumptions. People aren’t left to wonder what your deal is or if they’re the cause; they know what’s going on and why, and they know how to support you.
Giving my disclaimer to my team was a good chance to practice what I teach others to do, and it's something I want to be more intentional about doing as I continue to grow as a leader. It was a powerful reminder that even a single moment of vulnerability can do so much for the strength of your relationships—and your peace of mind.
I want to be clear, though, that a disclaimer is not a hall pass. The purpose isn’t to explain away bad behavior but to give reasons for temporary shifts and changes in how you’re showing up. For me, this is a season. Short and intense is not how I’m going to show up forever. But it’s human to have moments like these, and that’s okay. What’s important is to speak up about it in order to preserve the trust you’ve worked so hard to build with people. Ignoring and not addressing it is the fastest way to break that trust.
So now, I want to ask you: Where might you need to give a disclaimer in your life? Maybe to your team at work, a family member, a friend. Hit “reply” and tell us how you would say it. Use our inbox to practice! I can’t wait to read your responses when I’m back from my vacation.
Remember: When we give ourselves permission to be human, we inspire other people and give them permission to do the same.
We’ve got this!
Big hugs,
