Have you ever just lost it at work?  I have.

There was a day when pressure was mounting on an important deadline. We had a big meeting to review an even bigger milestone. After just a few minutes, it was crystal clear that the team wasn’t nearly ready. We were going to miss the deadline. Badly.

Yes, I was frustrated. And I let the team know it.  A litany of toxic nonsense spewed forth from my lips. Pausing to breathe and looking to my right, I nodded at the project manager to jump in and save this sinking ship. “He’s got to be even madder about this than I am,” I thought to myself. “I may have to jump back in if he loses it.”  But he just sat there. In fact, he didn’t even seem to be that bothered.

Well, now I was mad at him!  What started as frustration about the deadline had now doubled to anger directed squarely at one person.  As he started to say something, I wheeled around on him and yelled.

“Dammit, Ralph! Will you pull your weight around here or do I have to find someone else?”

The room fell silent. They all looked at me. It was like that old Southwest Airlines commercial that asked, “want to get away?” I couldn’t believe I had cursed at Ralph like that in front of the team. They missed the deadline, but the truth is they were working very hard, and the miss wasn’t entirely under their control, as I would later learn.

It was like an out-of-body experience.  Some other, darker version of me had somehow entered the room and taken over.  What to do?  Well, what I did was get up and exit the room, leaving Ralph and the team gasping at each other wondering what the hell had just happened. Pretty sure I left a smoke trail behind me.

How embarrassing.

But it was a moment of frustration that became a pivotal learning opportunity for me (once I calmed down and was thinking clearly again). Reflecting on this outburst later, I knew I had a few things to improve. But first, I had to circle back with the team – especially Ralph – and apologize.  Which is what I did the very next day.

Next, I had to do some serious introspective work. What in the world caused me to act and react like that?  Over time, here’s what I learned:

• When you hurt someone, say you’re sorry and ask for forgiveness. Do it quickly.
• Pause before reacting. Be curious. Taking a moment to breathe and reflect can prevent many regrettable outbursts. It’s about listening and responding, not reacting.
• Keep those channels of communication wide open. Regular check-ins and an open-door policy can prevent many conflicts by catching frustrations early. Building a culture where team members can safely express concerns before they boil over is crucial.
• Practice empathy. If I had simply put myself in their chairs for two seconds, I would have been figuring out ways to help them rather than venting at them.

Understanding the personal and professional challenges your team members face can transform your approach from frustration to support. How might we foster environments where everyone can do their best work and thrive?

“Dammit, Ralph!” became more than just a moment of frustration; it was a catalyst for me to become a better leader. By sharing this story, I hope to inspire others to think twice before their next “Dammit!” slips out. Remember, how we handle our frustrations can define our leadership just as much as our successes do.