Recently, I was on a coaching call with a Vice President at a tech company preparing for a difficult conversation. A high-potential, ambitious team member wanted to step into a Director role but he clearly wasn't ready. My client hesitated to tell him why because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings or discourage him. This is where many well-intentioned leaders get stuck, especially those newer to leadership.

Last Thursday, I found myself sitting beside Linor, my fifth-grade daughter, as she worked through her math homework on multiplying decimals.I’m not usually involved, but that night was different. She didn’t want me to leave her side. She was overwhelmed by the sheer number of problem sets ahead of her. At one point, she grabbed at her hair with panic: “How am I going to get all of this done?”

It was 8 p.m. and the floor was covered in Legos, dinosuars, and wrapping paper. My son, Lev, just celebrated his birthday, and the living room looked exactly the way you’d expect after a joyful day of new toys and excited hands. My husband was ready to rescue me and sweep him off to bed. Part of me really wanted that. "I’ll clean up. It'll be faster, easier, and most importantly...quieter this way," I thought to myself. But instead, I gently said, “Lev, it’s time to clean up.”

The first time I gardened was during the pandemic. I loved the smell of the soil and the delight of seeing things grow each day. The mint got out of control but the tomatoes, cucumbers, and lettuces were outstanding! I became so ambitious dreaming up my future gardens… but then I got pregnant with my son and since then I haven’t planted a thing.

Last week, I was coaching an engineering leader who kept returning to the concept of tech debt. As he spoke, I realized how closely it mirrors something I see every day in leadership and in life: emotional debt.