Sarah sat across from her manager, Tom, receiving praise for another stellar quarter. Revenue up 23%. Client satisfaction scores are through the roof. "You're crushing it," Tom beamed, already mentally drafting her promotion recommendation.
What Tom didn't know: Sarah had been sleeping in her car during lunch breaks, crying. Her marriage was ending. Her teenage daughter wasn't speaking to her. She'd been running on fumes and sheer willpower for months.
"Thanks," Sarah smiled, the mask firmly in place. "Just doing my job."
This scene plays out in offices everywhere, every single day. And it's killing us.
Here's the uncomfortable truth: Every single person in your workplace is carrying something you can't see.
The colleague who's always "fine" might be battling depression. The overachiever who never says no could be drowning in financial stress. The quiet one in meetings might be caring for a dying parent. The irritable team member might be grieving someone who's still alive but slipping away to dementia.
We've become masters of professional performance art—transforming from complex, struggling humans into "functioning professionals" in the time it takes to walk from the parking lot to our desks.
But this compartmentalization is creating a crisis of connection that's devastating both people and performance.
Burnout masquerading as dedication (the employee who works 70-hour weeks because they're afraid of seeming weak)
Disengagement disguised as attitude problems (the team member who's checked out because they feel invisible)
Anxiety presenting as perfectionism (the person who redoes everything five times because they're terrified of failure)
The result? Good people leave. Great people burn out. Teams fracture. And managers wonder why their "people strategies" aren't working.
The most successful leaders have figured out something revolutionary: Management isn't about managing work—it's about stewarding human beings who happen to do work.
Take Marcus, a VP at a tech startup. Instead of starting team meetings with project updates, he begins with a simple question: "What's one thing you're carrying right now that's making work harder?"
The first time he asked, silence. By the third meeting, his team was sharing everything from childcare struggles to grief to financial anxiety. Productivity didn't suffer—it soared. Turnover dropped to near zero.
Why? Because people perform better when they feel seen as humans, not just resources.
Ready to transform your leadership? Start with these game-changing questions:
Instead of the reflexive "How's the project going?", this question acknowledges that your team members are whole people with full lives. Don't expect deep confessions—just the shift in question signals that you see them as human.
This isn't about being a therapist. It's about recognizing that sometimes "support" means flexible hours for a struggling parent, or a quiet workspace for someone dealing with anxiety, or just acknowledgment that they're doing their best under difficult circumstances.
Focusing on strengths first creates psychological safety. People who feel valued for what they're doing right are more likely to share when they're struggling.
Understanding someone's broader life goals helps you support them more effectively—and often reveals why they might be struggling with certain tasks or deadlines. This question combines the impact of asking how to make their work easier with understanding their deeper motivations.
Here's what happens when managers lead with humanity:
Retention improves because people feel valued as humans, not just workers
Performance increases because psychological safety leads to better decision-making and creativity
Team dynamics strengthen because vulnerability creates connection
Stress decreases because people don't have to maintain exhausting facades
Innovation flourishes because people feel safe to take risks and share ideas
Right now, think of one person on your team who might be carrying something heavy. Maybe they've seemed off lately, or they're usually social but have been quiet, or they're working harder than usual.
Send them a message: "Hey, I wanted to check in—not about work stuff, but how you're doing generally. If you want to talk, I'm here."
That's it. No agenda, no problem to solve, no performance discussion. Just human recognition.
Every day, you have the choice to view your team in a certain way. You can see them as:
Resources to be maximized
Problems to be solved
Humans to be supported
The third option is scarier because it requires you to acknowledge your humanity, too. But it's also the only option that creates workplaces where people want to show up.
Because here's the thing: Everyone in your workplace is already carrying something. The question isn't whether they have struggles—it's whether you're going to lead in a way that acknowledges that reality or pretends it doesn't exist.
The best leaders never forget that they're human, leading humans. They remember what it feels like to be seen only for their output, to be misunderstood, to be carrying something heavy while trying to appear light.
They lead from that place of shared humanity.
What would happen if you did the same?
The next time you walk into a meeting, remember: Everyone in that room is fighting a battle you know nothing about. The question is—what kind of leader will you be in light of that truth?