Everything I Know About Communication I Learned From My Kid.

My son is not like me.

When he was five years old, I asked him, with excitement in my heart and plans in my head, “Do you want to go on an adventure?!!”

That kid looked me right in the eye, with a face that asked if I was new here, and said, “ummm… no,” while slowly shaking his head.

Well.

That interaction pretty well sums up my experience raising my now 18-year-old son.

I am a person who picked up and moved to Australia for a year. After being a blackjack dealer for a year before that. I LOVED adventure. I loved chance and change and sarcasm and drama.

Where were my genes in this little human?

Before becoming a parent, my communication style could have been described as (insert awkward pause while I think of a nicer word than blunt)… straightforward. Never cruel, but I had very little patience for small talk, or platitudes, or dancing around something instead of just getting on with it.

Enter: my sensitive-soul child. Whom I once made cry while playing kitchen because I yelled, “ORDER UP.”

Let me be clear. My teen is now a sarcastic little shit who gives even better than he gets. But when he was little, I figured out in a hurry that I had to change how I communicated with him. Looking back with the wisdom that comes with age (shhhh, it does), I realize now that I first had to build a stable base. He needed certainty that he was understood. Then appreciated. Then, obviously, loved.

Once that was well established, I could poke at him relentlessly. In a nurturing home. Obviously.

So I built systems for how I communicated with my kid. I tried to think about what I would want as an adult in a best-case scenario. It couldn’t be that far off… right? Actually, it wasn’t.

I listened with attention and intention.
I gave him a heads-up when a change was coming instead of barking instructions and acting surprised when he reacted badly.
I didn’t assume he magically had all the information he needed to move forward.

I mean… I had to show him how to mow the lawn. I didn’t just hand him a mower and wish him luck.

And finally, I gave him grace.
Room to make mistakes without jumping on him about how to do it better.
Room to figure things out himself.
Room to ask questions without being met with resentment, judgment, or impatience.

The uncomfortable reality of this spectacular system is that it works. Like, for EVERYONE.

And this is where business sneaks in.

Adults do not suddenly become emotionally indestructible when they get a job title. They still need to feel understood before they feel motivated, context before commands, and clarity before they can produce results. They learn faster when mistakes are treated as information instead of personal failure.

Most leadership problems I see are not skill problems. They are communication problems.

We hand people metaphorical lawn mowers every day. New roles, new expectations, new systems, new pressure and then we act surprised when they struggle without instructions.

The same principles that worked with my kid work with teams. Listen first. Name change before it happens. Do not assume knowledge that was never given. Build safety before demanding performance. Create systems that make success repeatable instead of heroic.

Good leadership is not about being softer. It is about being clearer. And when communication is built this way, people do not need to be pushed. They can actually move forward on their own, which is the whole point.