Something that’s come up repeatedly over the past few weeks in coaching sessions is just how powerful it can be to slow down and examine our thinking.
There are a lot of meaningful outcomes that come from coaching, but one of the simplest—and often most underrated—is objectivity. Having someone outside the situation who can hold up a mirror and help you see things just a little more clearly.
When we’re inside a situation, it’s incredibly easy to get caught in our own narrative. And often, that narrative is built on assumptions we don’t even realize we’re making. We think we understand what’s happening. We think we know why someone acted a certain way. We think we’re responding to facts.
A coach—or any neutral third party—can often spot assumptions much faster than we can ourselves. Not because they’re smarter or more insightful, but because they’re less emotionally invested. They have less context, and paradoxically, that can make things easier to see.
Learning to recognize our own assumptions is a critical skill. It’s one we practice a lot in the Elevate Program, and it’s one that shows up most clearly when strong emotions are involved—frustration, disappointment, excitement, anticipation. The feeling itself is real. The question is whether the story underneath it is.
When Emotion Is Real, but the Story Might Not Be
In the program, we spend a lot of time helping people build the skill of giving feedback when they know the facts. Something happened. There was an impact. And they want to articulate that impact clearly and productively.
But there’s another category of moments that deserves just as much attention.
There are times when we feel the exact same intensity of emotion—but that emotion isn’t rooted in confirmed facts. It’s rooted in a story we’ve told ourselves about what’s happening.
In those moments, we often think we have all the information. But in reality, we may have climbed our own ladder of inference. We noticed something. We made an assumption. We drew a conclusion. And then we reacted emotionally to that conclusion.
The emotion makes sense—but only if the story is true.
One of the most valuable muscles we build is learning to pause long enough to ask a very simple question: Do I actually know this for sure?
Over the past few weeks, this has come up repeatedly in one-on-one coaching sessions. In many cases, the most useful tool wasn’t feedback—it was perspective taking. A check-in. A moment of curiosity. Sometimes just asking, “What am I assuming here?” was enough to shift how someone saw the situation entirely.
Three Places We Most Commonly Tell Ourselves Stories
While this can show up anywhere, there are a few patterns I see again and again.
1. Other people’s thoughts and feelings
We are incredibly quick to assume we know how someone else is feeling or what they’re thinking.
“If I were them, I’d feel X.”
“They must be frustrated.”
“They probably took that personally.”
It often feels intuitive—sometimes even empathetic—but it’s still an assumption. And we may find ourselves changing our behavior, protecting someone, or bracing for conflict without ever confirming whether our read is accurate.
2. Other people’s motivations
We also tell ourselves stories about why someone did what they did.
“They made that decision because they don’t care.”
“They’re prioritizing something else.”
“They did this intentionally.”
The behavior may be real. The motivation is usually a guess. And motivations are incredibly hard to know without actually asking.
3. Missing context and unseen factors
Another common story is believing we understand all the variables at play.
“They made this decision on their own.”
“There was no reason this had to happen this way.”
In reality, there are often constraints, conversations, pressures, or data points we simply don’t have access to. Complexity doesn’t always announce itself. Being willing to say, “Maybe there’s something I don’t know,” can change everything.
The Question That Changes the Outcome
This work isn’t about suppressing emotion or invalidating your reaction. The emotion is real. The impact may be real.
The practice is about strengthening one specific habit:
Is what I’m feeling rooted in something I know to be true—or is there a chance I’m responding to a story I’ve told myself?
If it’s rooted in confirmed facts, you can move forward with clarity and intention.
If there’s even a possibility it’s a story, that’s your cue to get curious.
You don’t have to read minds.
You don’t have to guess.
You can ask.
You can check in. You can ask for perspective. You can invite someone to fill in the blanks. And once you have the facts, you get to decide what you want to do next.
What I see over and over again is that when people approach these conversations with genuine curiosity—not accusation—others are usually receptive. More often than not, the conversation brings relief, clarity, and a much more thoughtful path forward.
Recognizing when we’re telling ourselves a story isn’t about being less emotional.
It’s about being more intentional.
And that’s a muscle worth building.
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Hey, great read as always. This really resonated. I find a similar objectivity in my Pilates practice – slowing down helps you spot those hidden tensions or incorrect forms you dont even realize you're doing.