You Think You're Being Clear. Those Around You Experience Something Else.

Clarity isn’t always the problem.

At least, not in the way we think.

Those who know me well know not to give me directions.

Not landmarks. Not “turn left at the big tree” or “it’s just past that petrol station.”

I’ve told people this.

They don’t listen.

If anything, they double down.

They add more detail. More landmarks. More explanation.

At some point, my eyes glaze over.

I’m nodding, but I’ve already decided I’m putting it into Waze or Google Maps.

They think they’re being really clear.

My brain just doesn’t work like that.

That could pretty much sum up most communication issues.

We all have different ways of processing. Different context. Different experience.

It shows up in other ways too.

A few days ago, I was heading to the Bryan Adams concert and borrowed someone’s access to undercover parking because the weather was horrible and I didn’t want to get drenched.

I asked how to use the card.

“Swipe,” I was told.

I double-checked. The words “are you sure?” may have been used.

“Swipe.”

I got there.

No swipe option. No scan option.

Eventually I figured out I had to insert it.

But not before holding up the (very long) line of cars behind me, trying to work it out in the dark and convincing myself I was in the wrong lane because he clearly said there should be a swipe option.

Clear to them.

Not usable to me.

Sidenote: how is it possible that a sibling can be the polar opposite of someone? Asking for a friend.

My point is...

Most high performers think they’re being clear.

They know what good looks like.

They’ve done it before.

They can see exactly what needs to change.

So they communicate it.

“Make it more strategic.”

“This needs to be tighter.”

“Take it to the next level.”

And in their mind, that’s clear.

But on the receiving side, something very different is happening.

Because that version of “clear” relies on:

• your experience

• your context

• your definition of what good looks like

And none of that has been made explicit and relatable in someone else's context.

So the person does what they can with what they’ve heard.

They interpret it.

They fill in the gaps.

They deliver what makes sense to them.

And it’s close.

But not quite right.

So you step in.

You refine it.

You adjust it.

You take it further.

And in that moment, it reinforces something.

That they didn’t quite get it.

And that you need to stay close.

The issue isn’t always capability.

It’s translation. Communication. Context.

What feels precise in your head is often too compressed for someone else to act on.

And perfectionism makes this worse.

Because your standard is high.

Your thinking is detailed.

And you assume that what’s obvious to you should be obvious to others.

It rarely is.

Real clarity takes more than saying what you want.

It requires:

• expanding what feels obvious

• defining what “good” actually looks like

• being explicit in a way that others can work with

Because until that happens, people won’t fully meet your standard.

Because they don’t see it the way you do.

Then you keep stepping back in.

Because you’re focused on how it’s being done, not just what needs to be achieved.

That’s where perfectionism starts to work against you.

The standard isn’t just about the outcome.

It’s about the process.

The detail.

The way you would do it.

So when something feels off, you don’t just guide it.

You take it back.

But most of the time, the outcome doesn’t require your way.

It requires a clear understanding of what success looks like.

And the space for someone else to get there in their own way.

Because when the outcome is clear, but the path is flexible, people step up differently.

And you stop being the one who has to carry it all.