BY NICK STOUT
A child spills their milk at breakfast. A parent, already stressed about the upcoming workday, snaps – their voice sharp with frustration. “Why can’t you be more careful?” In that moment, they don’t see how their child’s shoulders slump, how a simple accident becomes a weight of shame. Down the street, a teenager hesitates to show their parent a less-than-perfect test score, their stomach knotting with anxiety. Across town, a spouse reads a work email at dinner, absently criticizing their partner’s decision-making “for their own good.” The truth is impact always trumps intent. The pain we cause others doesn’t hurt any less because we “didn’t mean it that way.”
Leadership isn’t confined to office walls or organizational charts. We lead every day, in every interaction – as parents, spouses, friends, and colleagues. Sometimes, the behaviors we learn in one arena poison the others. I witnessed this in the coal mines, where bosses thought their harsh, drill sergeant-style leadership was “making us tougher.” Being yelled at and cussed at daily wasn’t motivational – it was demoralizing. Those same supervisors would often bring that harsh approach home, their families bearing the weight of stress they couldn’t leave at work. As a claims manager now, I lead with positivity because I’ve seen firsthand how that old-school, aggressive approach breaks people down instead of building them up.
These patterns of unintentional bullying weave through every aspect of our lives. Parents unconsciously turn report cards into performance reviews, comparing siblings like employees competing for promotion. “Why can’t you be more like your sister?” they ask, not realizing they’re creating wounds that may never fully heal. Spouses bring home their workplace hierarchy, treating partners like subordinates rather than equals, turning dinner conversations into project post-mortems. Friends adopt microaggressions learned from toxic work environments, their “constructive criticism” creating invisible wounds in their social circles – the casual dismissal of someone’s feelings, the “helpful” comments about appearance or life choices, the subtle exclusions from group activities.
The 2021 Workplace Bullying Institute Survey reveals that 30% of Americans have experienced workplace bullying. But this statistic only captures a fraction of the story. It doesn’t count the child who stops sharing their dreams because they’re tired of being told they’re not practical enough. It doesn’t measure the spouse who withdraws because they’re weary of being “managed” at home. It doesn’t track the friend who slowly distances themselves because every interaction feels like a performance review.
Gary Keller once said something that cuts to the heart of this issue:
“Work is a rubber ball. If you drop it, it will bounce back. The other balls -family, health, friends – are made of glass. If you drop one of these, it will be irrevocably scuffed, nicked, perhaps even shattered.”
Yet how often do we prioritize the rubber ball, letting our stress shatter the glass ones in our hands? How many family dinners become battlegrounds? How many friendships fade under the weight of our “high expectations”?
This journey through life and the many different career choices most notably the military, coal mines, and firefighting taught me something profound about leadership: it’s not about being the toughest or the loudest. It’s about understanding our impact on others, whether we’re running a team meeting or having dinner with our family. When a child hides their mistakes for fear of our reaction, when a spouse stops sharing their feelings because they’re tired of being “managed,” when friends withdraw because our “tough love” feels more tough than love – these are the shattered glass balls at our feet.
The unintentional bully often emerges from environments where toughness is prized above all else. But bringing that same intensity to every interaction, treating every situation like a life-or-death emergency – that’s where the real damage happens. According to the WBI Survey, 54% of bullying targets suffer from anxiety and depression. Think about that in the context of family life. A child experiencing anxiety because every spilled milk becomes a catastrophe. A spouse developing depression because they can never meet impossible standards. A friend losing self-worth because our “helpful feedback” constantly highlights their flaws.
The ripple effects extend far beyond the immediate moment. Children who grow up walking on eggshells often become adults who struggle with self-worth and confidence. Partners who endure constant criticism may develop anxiety that affects their own leadership style at work. Friends who face subtle exclusion or constant “constructive feedback” might withdraw from meaningful relationships, their social circles shrinking under the weight of unspoken hurts.
Breaking this cycle requires recognizing that strength isn’t measured by how tough we can be, but by how well we can adapt our approach to nurture those around us. True leadership, whether at work or home, isn’t about being the most demanding presence. It’s about creating environments where people feel supported, valued, and safe to be human. It’s about understanding that the parent who listens without judgment, the partner who supports without controlling, and the friend who accepts without constant critique – these are the true leaders in life.
For my fellow veterans, miners, first responders, and anyone from environments where toughness is the default – this isn’t about becoming soft. It’s about becoming aware. Understanding that while the drill sergeant approach might have its place in boot camp, it doesn’t belong in our daily interactions with our children, partners, friends, or ourselves. Real strength lies in having the courage to break these cycles, to choose connection over correction, understanding over judgment.
The unintentional bully isn’t a villain – they’re often someone trying their best to lead, to motivate, to help others succeed. But when that leadership style leaves a trail of anxiety, broken trust, and damaged relationships, it’s time to find a better way. I found mine in positive leadership, in
understanding that we can achieve excellence without sacrificing our humanity or breaking others down. It’s about recognizing that every interaction is a chance to build up or break down, to strengthen or shatter those precious glass balls we hold.
Because at the end of the day, those glass balls we’re juggling? They’re not just tasks or responsibilities – they’re hearts, hopes, and human spirits. They’re the trust in a child’s eyes, the vulnerability in a partner’s confession, the authenticity in a friend’s sharing. And unlike the rubber ball of work that bounces back, once these are shattered, no amount of “good intentions” can make them whole again.
The choice is ours. Every day, in every interaction, we choose: Will we be the one who breaks or the one who builds? Will we lead with fear or with understanding? Will we prioritize the rubber ball, or will we finally learn to handle those glass ones with the care they deserve?
