Hmmm…I was called “intense” this week…again…for the hundredth time. This was shared by a friend, and she didn’t use it in a negative connotation. I asked her to use three words to describe me, and she said, “passionate, intense and loyal.” “The “loyal” part is one I’ll parse out another day, but for this post, I am stuck on the “intense” part. When I asked her to clarify what she meant, she indicated that my intensity was like “perseverance on steroids.” I move towards a goal that I deem important with a single-minded focus and I strive for excellence at all times. What’s wrong with that? For her, nothing was wrong with it. She indicated that it was one of the reasons she enjoyed spending time with me. But she also admitted that I “make her brain hurt” because of the intensity with which I ask questions, complete tasks, talk, think, etc… Wow. I don’t want to hurt people’s brains! But I’ve received this feedback enough from others to recognize it as an accurate perception. And it hasn’t always been received well, especially in a professional setting. I remember attending a week-long certification class for one of my leadership classes and having dinner with a fellow participant who had been a leader in the education sector for 30 years, and she looked at me from across the table, smiled and said, “Nhung, you have no idea of the impact of your presence on people.” What? I really didn’t understand that cryptic statement at all. She continued in a mentor-like fashion to share with me that while I stand at a whopping 4’10”, I am a giant. Now, I’m a huge fan of metaphors and similes, but she was losing me. “Nhung, you entered the class as a participant like the other 20+ individuals in the room, but engaged in a 30 minute discussion with the master facilitator about leadership development research statistics. Then when he joked about letting you lead the class, you gave a look that indicated that you would do so if necessary and not miss a beat. When you presented your section, you did so as though you had been teaching the content for years instead of only having learned the material in three days like everyone else in the class. And you did it all without even noticing how much angst and resentment that was causing other people.” I had no idea how to respond to that. I asked her if she resented me. Again, she gave me her Yoda-smile and said that she was not remotely resentful or angry with me. She deliberately sought me out because she wanted to share her observations and provide some suggestions. She indicated that “being intense” wasn’t wrong, but that I was going to have to recognize that my intensity affected people in different ways. It meant needing to be intentional about seeing the impact and deciding whether I cared enough about people to “tone it down.” I often shared with managers in leadership workshops that one's ability to adapt to others' communication style was a hallmark of maturity and led to more meaningful relationships. This journey towards maturity sounds awfully...intense. But I'm up to the challenge. I don't want to scare people off before I get the chance to know them.