Rethinking: You Call It Feedback – But What You Really Mean Is Control.

Feedback is not what you say.

It’s what you don’t say.
It’s the tone in your voice.
The look in your eyes.
The energy of your judgment.

And that’s exactly why so many feedback conversations fail,
even though they’re wrapped in the finest intentions.

Because what you call “feedback” is often something else entirely:

A valve for pent-up frustration.
A disguised attempt at behaviour correction.
A subtle display of dominance – dressed up as “care”.

And you have no idea what damage you’re doing.

Because you rely on words.
On techniques. On models. On structured templates.
While the other person is reacting to something entirely different –
not your sentence structure, but your stance.

You Say, “I Want to Help.”
But Your Eyes Say, “I Know Better.”

Feedback is not a gift if it comes from above.

It’s not an invitation if you’re not open to being moved.

It’s not leadership if it’s a way to make others feel small.

Here’s the truth:
You can polish your language all you want –
but if your posture reeks of control,
your feedback will be received as an attack.

Because feedback is never neutral.
It’s always a mirror of your inner alignment.
Your fears. Your beliefs. Your hidden rituals of dominance.

Feedback Didn’t Fail Because You Misspoke.
It Failed Because You Refused to Show Up.

Most feedback fails before the first word is spoken.
Because what you call preparation
is often just emotional armouring.

You plan your phrasing.
But not your courage.

You rehearse your opening.
But not your presence.

You gather points.
But no real connection.

So when you finally speak, everything sounds professional.
But flat.
Polite.
But hollow.
Structured.
But without soul.

And the other person?

Withdraws. Smiles. Plays along. Stays silent.

Or explodes.
Because you didn’t lead the moment –
you were led. By your own blind spots.

Feedback Isn’t an Event.
It’s a State.

A state of awareness.
Of responsibility.
Of emotional availability.

When you give feedback, you’re not the speaker.

You are the space.
The frequency.
The living proof of whether you can lead a relationship – or merely manage behaviour.

You are the feedback.
Your eyes.
Your presence when it gets uncomfortable.
Your courage to stay when the other person withdraws.

If you can’t offer that,
you’re not a feedback giver.

You’re a behaviour cop in a nice suit.

Growth Doesn’t Start With Your Feedback.
It Starts With Your Willingness to Stay Afterwards.

You think the feedback ends when you’ve said your piece?

Wrong.

The feedback starts when you’re still there
while the other person begins to feel what you’ve said.

After the meeting.
In the silence.
In how you behave the next time you see them.

If you speak but don’t remain,
you’re not a leader.
You’re a mailman.

And you’ll never know what would have been possible
if your feedback had been more than a statement –
if it had been a stance.

Stop Giving Feedback. Start Being Feedback.

What you say is forgettable.
What you are is not.

Feedback becomes transformative
when it stops sounding like a technique
and starts feeling like a moment of real connection.

When you stop performing
and start being felt.

When you stop trying to impact
and start showing up authentically.

When you stop strategising
and start being human.

And when you’re willing to ask yourself, every time:
What is my feedback really made of?

Is it control in disguise?

Or is it a space where change can actually begin?

The answer won’t lie in your clever phrasing.

It will live in your presence.