Sadly, I’m one of those poor souls who wears his thoughts on his sleeve. Try as I might, people usually can tell what I’m thinking by the look on my face.
More than once in my life, that’s caused problems for me. Growing up, my face betrayed my thoughts in front of more than a few irate teachers or coaches. I’d hear something that conflicted with my thinking on a particular subject and my face would inevitably contort in some way that only made a bad situation worse. I didn’t have to say anything – although I often added a remark or two to escalate the tension – but it didn’t matter. My inner monologue had a bad habit of projecting itself.
As an adult, I learned to control my expressions a little better, even as my tendency to add unhelpful commentary grew progressively worse. At times, it seemed like the two had to be in perfect balance. I could either maintain a perfect poker face and speak my mind freely, or I could hold my tongue and my facial expressions would do the talking.
I just can’t win.
USING YOUR WORDS (FOR GOOD)
Most of the time, this isn’t an issue. For the most part, I genuinely enjoy the people I’m around, and my facial expressions and thoughts are generally aligned. I’m also a firm believer in providing positive feedback, using constructive language to build trust and reinforce – and recognize – strong performance. As a result, when I offer someone praise, there’s never a doubt that I mean it. One, you can read it on my face. Two, I never even think about offering false praise.
There’s no shortage of literature on this subject and there are days that I would swear I’ve read it all. In a 2017 Inc. article, Marcel Schwantes offers a similar sentiment, focusing on the nexus of employee motivation, trust, and engagement. She emphasizes that our words matter, and that trust-building language has a direct impact on high performance. In her article, she offers several phrases that facilitate this process:
- “That was my fault.”
- “I can’t tell you how much [that] meant to all of us.”
- “I loved the way you handled that.”
- “Can I get your advice on this?”
- “I’m happy to see you!”
- “I trust your judgment.”
- “What was the highlight of your week?”
- “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
- “What can I do to help?”
- “Tell me about why…”
Each of these phrases helps to open a dialog and fosters trust-building in the workplace. Assuming a leader can set ego aside, opening that dialog is a powerful tool for positive change.
PROJECTING YOUR INNER MONOLOGUE
But we all know that there are times when those words either won’t achieve the intended outcome, or they ring hollow – both for you and for the person on the receiving end. Those are the moments when wearing your thoughts on your sleeve becomes problematic, when your facial expressions betray your true thoughts. They’re Peter Gibbons moments – a reference to Ron Livingston’s character from the 1999 film, Office Space – when you just want to project your inner monologue, to let your deepest thoughts run free.
But you can’t. To do so would invite a visit from Human Resources or, worse yet, your own boss. And you’d probably be looking for a different job. That doesn’t mean those words don’t cross my mind, and when they do, you can read me like a book.
1. “I remember my first beer.”
That was an incredibly stupid thing you just did.
2. “I’ll try to be nicer if you’ll try being smarter.”
I’m not really being mean; I’m just losing patience with you.
3. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I’ll bet it’s hard to pronounce.”
I don’t understand you.
4. “Do I look like I have a horn growing out of my forehead?”
I don’t think I can make this any simpler for you.
5. “Thank you for your interest in national defense.”
Your presence isn’t adding anything to this discussion.
6. “Seeing you makes me want to commit ritual seppuku.”
I would prefer to be alone on a deserted island than in the same room with you.
7. “The fact that no one understands you is not a sign of your genius.”
Clausewitz was a genius. You’re not.
8. “Useful idiots are still useful. Unfortunately, you’re just an idiot.”
The good idea fairy did not bless you today.
9. “I’m sorry, the stupid suggestion box is down the hall.”
You’re killing me with the bad ideas. Go away.
10. “You look like a guy who swings a football bat.”
If it’s not self-explanatory, I keep a football bat in my office for those special occasions. “What’s that for?” If you only knew.
I don’t have to say anything on most days. It’s right there on my face.
