When Feedback Hurts: A Father’s Reflection on Communication and Growth

Dear Son,

Yesterday was parent-teacher meeting day at your school. Once again, thank you for giving us a reason to feel proud. Listening to the wonderful feedback from your teachers — full of kind words, meaningful stories, and thoughtful observations — was truly heartwarming. We are so grateful for all of it.

However, there was one moment that struck me deeply and left an unexpected ache in my heart. Your science teacher mentioned that you had told him, with tears welling in your eyes, that I didn’t allow you to bring your Raspberry Pi 5 to school for your science project. He explained how he’s been trying to help you find a workaround ever since. Hearing this broke me — not because of what you said, but because I realized I may have failed to see the situation through your eyes.

Let me share my perspective. When I first heard you’d be working on a team project, my immediate concern was about the balance of responsibility. At your age, contributions among team members can be uneven, and I worried you might end up doing more than your fair share — or worse, carry the burden alone. My intention was to protect you from frustration or disappointment, not to limit your potential.

But after speaking with your teacher, I understood there was a deeper misunderstanding. What I saw as guidance came across to you as restriction. What I meant as protection felt, to you, like a lack of trust.

This experience has given me two valuable lessons — lessons I believe apply not only to parenting, but also to leadership, teamwork, and communication at every level:

First, I need to give you more room to explore, to fail, to lead, and to grow. Teamwork is one of life’s most powerful teachers. It’s not just about achieving a goal — it’s about learning how to collaborate, how to manage roles and responsibilities, and how to navigate the beautiful messiness of human dynamics. These are skills that you, like all of us, must learn through real experience.

Second, feedback is not just about what we say — it’s about how we say it. I now realize that the way I expressed my concerns lacked empathy and clarity. Next time, I’ll do better: I’ll explain the ‘why’ behind my thoughts, give you the full picture, and make sure we’re truly aligned in understanding.

Thank you for being our bright, curious, and amazing son. You remind me every day that we are all students in this journey — learning from each other, growing together, and always better when we trust and support one another.

With love,
Dad
Volkan

For more letters like this:

Volkan Yorulmaz: Behind the "Fantastic Job": Progress Bars and Punching Bags

Volkan Yorulmaz: Driving Growth: Individual Development Plan and AI Integration

Behind the "Fantastic Job": Progress Bars and Punching Bags

Dear Father,

First of all, it's great to have the chance to dedicate some quality time to writing this letter, just one week after the previous one. It's early Sunday morning, and for the second day in a row, I've slept more than seven hours—finally recovering from the fatigue of sleeping only five to six hours each night over the past week.

It’s been a week of “getting used to it.” After the disappointment of last week, I had scheduled meetings from Monday to Thursday, where I had to present various assessments. This required me to simplify tables, check with consultants, update the files, present them to stakeholders, record and archive the sessions, and document the meeting notes. After each session, I felt like a progress bar in my mind moved a little further. Completing all sessions—especially Thursday’s—without any issues was the main objective of the week. Thank God, I managed to do that.

But it wasn’t over. On Thursday afternoon, our finance director rightfully asked for a status update on the first batch by Friday. I had planned to complete many quarter-end, statutory, and ad-hoc tasks by Friday, but I had to reschedule them. I managed that too—and thankfully, I heard the words “fantastic job” as feedback.

Yesterday, I told my aunt about this appreciation, and she asked me what it meant. Clearly, “fantastic job” doesn’t hold the same recognition value in Turkish for someone in their seventies. It reminded me of my days in Romania, when I was a guest auditor—back then, it was the first time I heard “fantastic” as praise.

When I finally stepped away from my laptop on Friday evening, I had nearly ten emails I’d already read but marked as unread to revisit. Still, I had to head to the shopping mall where my son watched “A Minecraft Movie” for the second time since its release. I kept repeating to myself: “Oh my God, thank you, it’s over.”

It was a heavy week, and thankfully I won’t be in presentation mode in my upcoming meetings. That, in itself, is something I’m grateful for. I know next week won’t be light either—statutory closings, treasury activities, and ad-hoc requests will keep me busy. But, as they say, “this is the way.”

Aside from work updates, this week also marked the end of my three-month coaching journey. At the end of December 2024, our function offered me an external coaching program in recognition of my efforts in an initiative. My coach, based in Switzerland, had spent his entire career in multinational companies. One day, he lost his job and began this new path.

Whatever I shared with him about my work and interactions made complete sense to him—he had lived similar experiences. On top of that, his technical knowledge enriched our sessions, making the three months fulfilling.

In our final session last week, he left me with some warnings. When we began, I took a “saboteur assessment,” and my top saboteur was being a Pleaser. Let me share the definition:

“The Pleaser has a strong need to be liked by people and attempts to earn it by helping, pleasing, rescuing, or flattering them. The Pleaser needs frequent reassurance from others about their acceptance and affection and can’t express needs openly and directly. Instead, the Pleaser expresses needs indirectly by making people feel obligated to reciprocate care.”

You can read more or take the test here: https://www.positiveintelligence.com/blog/pleaser-saboteur/

Michael, my coach, ended the session by warning me that working so hard to please others could eventually lead to burnout—waking up one day with no motivation toward work or to-dos. This has stuck with me, and I’m doing my best to find balance. That’s partly why I’m taking the time to write. And surely, I need to make time for my daily walks and workouts when I go to the office.

Let me briefly talk about exercising. Yesterday, a rainy Saturday, I dropped my son off at his special school and then went to the office to use the gym. Normally, I prefer cardio and avoid weights. But after checking my weight and realizing I’ve gained a bit since Ramadan, I started with elliptical walking. After 30 minutes, I noticed the sandbag and boxing gloves. I geared up and started kicking the sandbag, thinking of all the emails I’d been tagged in—not about the people, but the extra tasks and requests I didn’t say no to, trying to please others.

It’s not usually my style, but it was exactly what I needed. When I removed the gloves, my hands were red. I found a disinfectant spray and applied it to the sore areas—it reminded me of the pandemic days…

Now, I hear my son and wife have woken up. That’s my cue to say goodbye—until next time.

Best wishes,
Volkan

PS. This letter is written to my "father," and there is a metaphor here; he knows himself.