We all know or have heard of the “dreaded” quarterly performance review. You know, that subjective 1–5 rating scale where we high achievers see anything less than a 4 and immediately clock it as a 1.

Perhaps we obsess over the written words that qualify our numerical ratings. We wonder what is being left out, how we compare to our colleagues, and if our boss is trying to spare our own feelings. We engage in mind games born out of fear. We spiral into catastrophizing, perfectionism, and projection, all wrapped up in thoughts so quick we barely recognize them, let alone question them.

On the other end of the spectrum, some performance reviews do highlight very real workplace issues. Maybe they flag behavioral, relational, or performance concerns.

Now, let’s introduce the feared Performance Improvement Plan (PIP), a formal workplace procedure meant to address these concerns.

This process makes most people’s skin crawl: a formal report detailing all the ways they need to grow or change. Many find this incredibly embarrassing and demoralizing. Instead of feeling supported, they experience shame and overwhelm. The metaphorical cartoon holding up a sign yelling, “YOU SUCK.”

Yet isn’t a PIP kinder than the alternative? Terminating an employee without ever addressing concerns. Depriving someone of the time, resources, and ability to take feedback and improve. Denying them the chance to grow.

This process made me reflect on our aversion to discomfort in all areas of life, not just the workplace. It isn’t so different from the way we avoid tough conversations in our daily lives.

As much as we don’t like to admit it, many of us are deeply uncomfortable with conflict. We struggle to accept feedback and likely struggle to give it. Let me normalize that. It’s incredibly difficult to tell someone they messed up, aren’t meeting expectations, or that we need more from them.

Many of us were never taught how to express our needs in relationships. So, we hold onto resentment until, poof, the other party gets ghosted. We justify it by convincing ourselves that the other person knew what was wrong, even though we never actually communicated it. We tell ourselves it’s kinder than being direct. We convince ourselves we’re sparing their feelings.

For all reading, I urge you to explore your own discomfort with interpersonal conflict. Reflect on how you navigate difficult conversations in your life. Practice telling others what you need and give them the chance to meet your expectations. Offer others the opportunity to evolve, rather than leaving them silently questioning what went wrong. Hold both yourself and others accountable and see how the relationship grows.