A senior leader I worked with came to me puzzled by a pattern he couldn’t quite explain. He was highly competent, deeply committed to his team, and widely respected. Yet one of his direct reports seemed increasingly withdrawn in meetings. She spoke less, deferred more often, and no longer brought forward ideas with the same energy she once had.
His initial interpretations were external. Perhaps she was disengaged. Perhaps she lacked confidence. Perhaps she was considering leaving.
To his credit, he chose a different intervention. He asked her for feedback.
He said, “I’ve noticed that our interactions have changed, and I want to make sure I’m not contributing to that in some way. Is there anything I’ve been doing that’s made it harder for you to do your best work?”
She hesitated at first. Then she told him something he hadn’t realized.
“In meetings,” she said, “you often respond very quickly when I present an idea. You point out potential problems right away. I know you’re trying to strengthen the idea, but in the moment it feels like it’s being shut down before it has room to breathe.”
He was surprised. From his perspective, he was being engaged and helpful. But he could see how his speed and intensity might feel discouraging.
He didn’t defend himself. He thanked her.
And then he did something essential: he made a visible change.
In the next meeting, when she presented an idea, he paused. He let the room sit with it. He asked a curious question instead of offering an immediate critique.
The shift was subtle, but unmistakable.
Over time, she began contributing more again. The pattern had changed—not because he had forced it, but because he had invited information and acted on it.
This is the critical second step of asking for feedback: you must demonstrate, however modestly, that you have taken it onboard.
Without this step, asking for feedback can feel performative. People conclude, consciously or unconsciously, that it wasn’t safe or useful to be honest. They become less likely to offer meaningful input in the future.
Even small adjustments signal seriousness. They show respect. They build trust.
One of the most effective ways to structure a feedback request is to use the “Start, Stop, Keep Doing” framework. You might say:
“What’s one thing I should start doing that would make me more effective?”
“What’s one thing I should stop doing that might be getting in the way?”
“What’s one thing I should keep doing that’s helpful?”
This structure creates balance. It prevents the conversation from becoming either artificially polite or disproportionately critical. It gives the other person permission to offer constructive feedback while also recognizing your strengths.
Asking for feedback changes the emotional geometry of the relationship. Instead of positioning yourself as evaluator, you become a learner. Instead of defending your self-image, you expand it.
And when people see that their feedback leads to real change, they become more invested in your growth—and in the relationship itself.