What If I'm the Toxic Person?

Three questions for the leader who's willing to look in the mirror.

I’ve thought and written a lot about toxicity recently. What to do when a coworker or a boss is toxic. What you can control, what you can't, and what your options are.

There's one question I haven’t asked yet: What if I'm the toxic person?

Nobody raises their hand for that one. I’ve never met a single person who volunteered, "Yep, that's me. I'm the problem." Most of us see ourselves as the one being affected. But if there's toxicity in a workplace, a marriage, or a friendship, somebody is contributing to it. In any relationship where one of us is the problem, it has to be either you or me. Duh. And chances are it’s not always you.

Step one: Leave the door open

Before any questions, there's one thing that has to happen first. You have to be willing to consider that it might be you.

If you run through a checklist already certain of the answer, it goes "nope, nope, nope," and you move on to figuring out who the real culprit is. The whole exercise is pointless unless you genuinely allow for all possibilities.

That's hard for two reasons.

First, you know the intent of your heart. Other people don't. They only see your actions.

Second, we've made the word "toxic" so final. It sounds like evil, like something that can't be fixed. Once the label goes on, it's game over. So we protect ourselves by never considering it. (Funny how we don’t protect other people the same way. But I digress.)

I don't think that's the right way to see it. There may be a few truly evil people in the world, but there's a lot of bad behavior that comes from hurt and brokenness. Misguided is not the same as evil. Behavior can change, and that's the good news.

Separate the facts from the story

One of the most useful ideas I've taken from Crucial Conversations is to resist the urge to rush to judgment.

Say a coworker named Clyde does something that bugs me. The fact is: Clyde did whatever Clyde did. Stop there. The moment I add "so he's obviously toxic," I'm no longer dealing with facts. I'm telling myself a story, and I almost never have enough of the real story to justify my verdict.

Instead, I should try asking, "Why would a reasonable, rational person do this?" Or think of it like a mystery novel and look for the plot twist. It looks like this, but there's probably more to the story. That one question lowers the emotional temperature and gets me thinking more clearly.

Three questions to ask yourself

1. What do I consistently do that seems to create difficulty for other people?

Look for a pattern. Maybe you come in hot with every opinion, or you always have a better story, or you walk into a happy room and make sure everyone knows you're having a bad day.

I'll tell one on myself. Years ago, a coworker kindly pointed out that I kept interrupting her. I was stunned. In the family and culture I grew up in, that back-and-forth was what good conversation looked like. I thought I was engaging. She experienced it as not being heard. I apologized, and I've been working on it ever since. It's still against my instincts, but I now know not everybody was raised at my house.

2. What feedback do I keep hearing that I've dismissed because I don't agree with it?

A criticism from your arch-nemesis might not mean much. Similar comments from several friends or colleagues over time is a pattern, and patterns deserve a hard look.

Also, feedback doesn’t only come in the form of words. When the room goes quiet as you walk in, when people get fidgety or leave, when someone turns combative, that's information. Treat it as data, not as an insult.

3. When there's conflict, how often do I conclude that someone else is the problem?

Sometimes it really is them. But if I conclude it's them nine times out of ten, that tells me more about me than about them.

And here's the other side of it. Even when the other person is mostly wrong, concluding that gets me nothing. If I can find even one piece of what they said that's worth applying to myself, I walk away better for it.

You can't see your own blind spots

That's what makes them blind spots. If your plan is "I'll figure it out myself," that runs counter to how blind spots work.

You need someone who wants the very best for you, and you have to give them the authority to speak into your life. It’s going to sting. Criticism always does. But it's much better to hear it from someone who cares than to find out after the damage is done.

A challenge for you

This week, ask one person you trust: "What's one thing I do that makes it harder for people to work with me?" Then listen. Don't defend, explain, or correct. Just say thank you.

If you're a leader who wants to build that kind of self-awareness into how you lead, we'd love to talk. Book a free discovery call.