For a long time, I was quick to blame my sweet husband. Small things would set me off. “You didn’t get the milk? It was on the list.” Even when my frustration was justified, the pattern wasn’t serving us. He felt unseen. I felt resentful. And we would loop there for days.

Last week, I gave a client a simple piece of homework: Catch someone doing something right. Once a day. He paused. Then almost laughed.

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.”