| As the Board members and I filed into the meeting room, the chattiness of the conversations over coffee that we’d just been having died down. The tone became more serious as laptops and smartphones were put away and my co-facilitator cleared his throat to speak. I watched carefully noting that people appeared to be nervous whilst appreciating the opportunity to be a fly-on-the-wall. In line with the agreement we’d made in advance, I readied myself to swing into action in the afternoon by gathering my observations. Facilitating a dialogue about how this Board could bring about positive change was a great opportunity to do the work I love and make a difference. Two hours later, as our morning session had overrun, the food for lunch was placed on side tables. As I lifted plates onto the large table where the Directors were sitting, one of them turned to me and said: “So you’ve found a role then?” By the cold glint in his eye and the stab in my stomach, I sensed this was more put-down than half-joke. Before I could make a wry or witty comeback, he continued: “What are you doing here? Two facilitators but for the price of one, I hope?” As I stumbled around setting down the plates, I did my best to compose myself and re-enter the conversation. I discovered, however, that with a shakiness in my chest and a loudly thumping heart, I felt unable to do so. I remained silent, aware only of feeling very small and rather upset. I was at a loss as to how to respond. |
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Perhaps you can relate to this story? Think about a time the stakes suddenly shot up in a meeting and the impact this had on you. Some of us go silent, others compliant and others defiant. I have written before about the three reactive tendencies that can scupper our ability to have a productive conversation (see my previous blog, Turning Down the Heat.) Here I focus on a deeper layer of what’s driving our unproductive behaviour in a meeting, whether we’re a leader, team member or consultant. Becoming aware of our well-worn automatic reactions such as acquiescing, avoiding or attacking, and the unresolved emotional triggers that generate them makes changing our behaviour possible.
For my recent Now We’re Talking podcast episode I had the great pleasure of chatting with Dr Sarah Hill, author of Where did you learn to behave like that?. Sarah and I have known each other for over 20 years and it’s been wonderful to witness how her work as a dialogue coach and facilitator has flourished. Sarah has developed a powerful model of practice for helping leaders to understand the deeper influences that shape their behaviours, particularly when the pressure is on. There is an invisible reality present in every interaction when the stakes go up that we each carry with us deep inside us: our ‘childhood story.’
A ‘childhood story,’ as described by author David Kantor in his book Reading the Room, is a deeply ingrained narrative formed during early life experiences, often as a response to the dynamics of one’s family system. Think about what happened in your own family of origin when you did something wrong, got told off, became upset or angry. These formative moments teach us what’s ‘acceptable’ behaviour and what isn’t. We might learn that it’s not OK to be angry, argue or shout back. As a result, we develop ‘adaptive strategies’ such as appeasing, going silent or confronting to cope.
A childhood story is made up of many different moments from pre-birth to our early adulthood. When we spoke, Sarah Hill described these as a ‘tapestry of experiences’ made up of many episodes which range from the seemingly tiny to the hugely dramatic. These stories shape how we perceive ourselves, others, and the world, influencing patterns of behaviour, communication, and decision-making, particularly under stress. When the stakes go up—whether in leadership roles, high-pressure situations, or critical conversations—these stories often resurface, driving automatic responses such as saying ‘yes’ when we really mean ‘no’, giving someone the silent treatment or steamrolling to get our own way.
Understanding and becoming aware of these narratives can be transformative for leaders and teams. Recognising how childhood stories show up in their communication patterns, enables individuals to move from difficult-to-shift reactive behaviours to intentional dialogue. This shift fosters greater trust, collaboration, and adaptability, especially when tensions are high and outcomes are crucial. Below are three effective tools to use when the stakes go up but first an example of a childhood story.
| My teacher had asked me (age 10) to take a lead on the painting of a mural that was to cover the length of our classroom. Our theme was ‘park life’ so – as the appointed leader – I suggested we painted kids on swings, dogs playing ball and Mums with pushchairs (this was the 1970s when stay-at-home Dads didn’t exist, at least not in the small town of Shrewsbury where I lived). The colourful figures stood out strongly against the background of the grey sugar paper stapled to the wall. I was pleased with the effect, and the others seemed to be too as they happily splashed paint on the wall. But then halfway through our busy lunch break, one girl suddenly announced that we were going about it all wrong. We should begin by painting the grass first, she said. As she seemed so confident (and I was a bit scared of her), I agreed to change tack. So we loaded up our brushes with bright green paint and set about painting over the figures we’d just created. At the end of the lunch break, the really boisterous kids (who’d opted out of the project altogether) returned to the classroom. We were only halfway through the painting-over stage, but when they saw the mess of brown splodges on the wall, they laughed and clapped and jeered. Feelings of humiliation engulfed me as I ran out of the classroom, hot tears streaming down my cheeks, but saying nothing at all. Sarah, author |
- Notice the triggers of your story
When a ‘childhood story’ is triggered, it often first shows up in our body. Sweating palms, a knot in the stomach and a thumping chest are all signs that something else might be going on. “I forget to breathe”, one client said to me when we started to unpack what had happened when the heat got turned up in a meeting she was chairing.
These feelings, whilst uncomfortable, can be hugely informative. If you can ‘sit with’ the feeling rather than push it away or stuff it down, you might find that you can trace it back to long ago and far away. There might be an eery sense of the ‘familiar’: you might be feeling as if you were back in the classroom, family meal table or even bath time with your siblings.
In my own case, how I felt as a result of the ‘Two facilitators but for the price of one’ put-down (small, upset and mute) was an echo of how I felt in the classroom leading the messy painting expedition. Until I started to dig into my childhood story, I’d often reflected on why it was I’d been so reluctant and slow to take on leadership positions as an adult. Here was (part of) the answer: my “operating system” (as David Kantor calls it) was driven by a hidden narrative: “If you step up to lead, you’ll be humiliated.” Once your story has come into the light of awareness you might find that it starts to loosen its grip on you.
2. Be curious about your story
When stakes are high, emotions often flare up. By reflecting on situations that provoke strong reactions—such as feeling upset for being criticised, excluded, or overly responsible—you can start to shine a light on your childhood story. A leader who needs to fix everything may carry a story of needing to be the ‘peacemaker’ in their family. Someone who’s overly protective might have had to deal with an abusive parent as a child. A board member who stays the course even when their loyalty has become outdated might have a childhood story of needing to be there for mum or dad when they were ill.
To begin to uncover your childhood story, in the face of a disproportionately strong emotional reaction, ask yourself:
- What am I sensing in my body?
- When else have I felt this way?
- What feels familiar about my reaction?
Stop to reflect, and then write down all the situations you remember similar sensations or feelings running through you. Therapists speak of ‘make the link to break the link.’ Here you’re not trying to do anything other than seeing what patterns might be at play.
When leaders identify recurring themes in their professional and personal relationships, it can be a powerful spur for change. For example, feeling undervalued, overburdened, or mistrusted might be a replay of early family dynamics or roles they adopted as a child. Journaling about recurring workplace dynamics, noting parallels with early life experiences can be insightful by asking questions such as: How might this dynamic reflect something from my past?
3. Seek Feedback from Trusted Colleagues
Sometimes others see patterns we can’t recognise in ourselves. A trusted colleague, coach, or mentor can provide valuable insights into how a leader shows up under pressure. Their observations can help uncover behaviours linked to a childhood story.
In a recent coaching assignment, I asked the line manager (a trusted peer of person X whom I was coaching) “How do you see X responding when tensions are high? What do you think motivates their actions?” The feedback that was given, which I then passed onto X, wasn’t easy to hear but has proven to be a real spur to shift stuck behaviour. We cannot change what we cannot see.
Leaders often move quickly in high-pressure situations. By intentionally pausing to reflect, whether in a coaching conversation or alone when journalling, we can then choose to respond rather than react next time the pressure is on. By creating space to reflect, we can identify the narrative influencing our behaviour. For example, a leader might notice they are acting out of fear of failure, rooted in a childhood story of having to prove their worth. When we ask ourselves, “What story am I telling myself about this situation?” we might be surprised by the answer.
In closing
Sometimes childhood stories are so deeply ingrained that they require professional guidance to unravel. A skilled coach or therapist can help leaders identify these narratives and rewrite them in ways that empower rather than limit them. Systemic approaches such as family or organisational constellations or narrative coaching can all uncover the roots of your story. By raising awareness of their childhood stories and bringing curiosity to them, leaders can break free from reactive cycles. When the stakes are raised, leaders are then more able to lead with greater skill, presence and authenticity, and have a positive impact.
