From Fire to Foresight

In early 2020, I found myself sitting in the stark yet slightly familiar boardroom at 3 tier logic, filled with excitement. 

After months of hard work, our team had just landed one of our largest clients, and I was eager for what I hoped would be a rare acknowledgment from Rob, our Founder and CEO. 

Known for his relentless drive and door-to-door encyclopedia sales background, Rob was one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met, and could sell anything to anyone. 

Rob took his usual seat at the corner of the long white table. Leaning forward, he delivered the blow: “It’s not working out, Hussein.”

I froze for a moment, still processing, waiting for the acknowledgment I thought was coming. 

“What?! What do you mean?” I managed to sputter.

Rob's bluntness was no surprise. Engaging with him always felt like being a Roman gladiator fighting for life. And I loved that about him. 

With Rob, you never had to wonder; right or wrong, you always knew where he stood. He was the smart kind of stubborn—you could argue your point with the strongest language, provided you backed it up with data, numbers, or solid logic.

Caught off guard, I started to rattle off, “The sales team has everything they need, I’m leading the product team, we closed our biggest clients, what more do you want?”

He was immovable.

Rob only showed emotion when talking about his family, colleagues, or when someone messed up big time. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I didn’t hire you for these little things. I hired you to make big waves.” He repeated, “This is not working out.”

My body was on fire, my mind racing to catch up, but after my litany of ‘what abouts’ and ‘how I did things,’ I began to realize nothing I said would change his perspective. “But I’m right. He is wrong about this,” I told myself.

The choice was simple: I could sit there trying to convince him I was right, or I could really listen.

It had only been a few minutes, but I felt exhausted, drained, drowning in my own thoughts. “I need a sec,” I said.

I stood up and walked to the bathroom in complete silence. I washed my hands and face, sipped some water from the kitchen tap, and went back into the arena. The room seemed a little brighter, and the fire lighting my body up had receded.

I sat down, looked Rob in the eyes, and said, “Everything in me says you are wrong. I can’t prove to you right now all the work I’ve done. I wasn’t tracking and preparing for a day like this. That’s on me.”

Without giving him a chance to reply, I continued, “Regardless, tell me in your words what you hired me to do, where I came short, and what you and 3tl need from me to meet and exceed your expectations.”

We were no longer gladiators fighting for dominance. The room had transformed into a command center, and we were two generals planning our next move.

I was angry at Rob for catching me off guard, disappointed that I didn’t receive acknowledgment, and frustrated because my efforts were ignored. And I felt I had every right to be. 

My feelings took over, and my first instinct was to blame him for not recognizing the value I brought. I was right; Rob was not aware of the hard work I put in every day, the nights I stayed up, and that I gave my all for the work.

But when I gave myself some time to cool down and got back into the room, I realized I had a choice. Either I spend the next hour or two arguing and trying to prove I'm right, or I could use this as an opportunity to learn, to grow, and to excel.

I wanted so badly to be right, to win the argument, to prove my point, and claim victory. It would not be true winning, though. We would likely be back in that room a few months from now. These things never go away.

I better deal with this here and now. The wound is open, it hurts like hell, so why carry it for another few months? Let's just clean it and get it over with.

I believed in constant and never-ending improvement. Looking back, I would say what I did was rational. But at the moment, it was one of the hardest things to do.

When feelings take over, you are not yourself. You are another you. The emotional, hormonal, and irrational victim stuck in quicksand, the more you move and struggle to get out, the more you sink down.

“I did great,” I told myself when I got out of that room after an hour of listening to Rob point out all the things I didn’t do. 

Rob doesn’t hold back, his feedback is like being punched in the face, it will probably make you stronger, but it fucking hurts like hell.

I made it out and I was determined I will never have another meeting like that ever again.

I wanted to make sure I never leave things to get to that point. Why subject myself to an hour of being a punching bag? That was on me. Why not create a system to allow me and Rob to spar regularly?

If we are always engaging in harsh feedback but in manageable doses, I get to know what’s on his mind, and how things look from his perspective as a CEO, and I have the insight and info to take meaningful action.

No more emotional overdrives, I wanted the rational, strategic, and calculated me to be in charge, and I didn’t like the rambling excuse-making mess I became when I received harsh feedback.

It wasn’t news to me that emotions significantly influence decision-making processes. But it’s rare for me to be that emotional. This kind of fiery rage might kill a career and ruin relationships, and I prefer to think through things.

But I can’t control what people choose to say to me or what situation they put me in, like being in that room on the receiving end of disappointment when I was so confident I was going to receive praise.

Within a few months, I spearheaded the effort to roll out OKRs (Objectives & Key Results) for the senior team, and then for the whole team. 

As a result we became more connected, more organized, and more effective than ever.

We didn’t have to wait for clients or a meeting with Rob to receive open and honest feedback, or even acknowledgements. The system showed us where we were falling short. Everyone knew how their delivery impacted the overall objectives and goals of the company.

What started as an effort to manage my emotions led to rolling out a system to enhance decision-making clarity and objectivity.

By the end of 2021, 3tl had generated five times the revenue it did in 2019, and for the first time our funding round was oversubscribed.

I keep on working on developing my emotional intelligence to help make better decisions, and I found that making sure those emotions are channeled regularly is one of the best things for growth and enhancing my leadership abilities.

Rob's directness and my ability to adapt emotionally turned a potential crisis into a powerful pivot. Now, I see every emotional challenge as an opportunity to strengthen my leadership and decision-making skills.

Feelings and emotions are integral to who we are. Recognizing their role in our professional lives doesn't weaken our leadership; it enhances it, making us more adaptive, perceptive, and resilient.