← Guides

Guide

Leaning in, not leaning away

The fear of getting it wrong can make us withdraw — and that withdrawal reads as exclusion. The antidote is curiosity, humility, and the courage to stay present.

Leaning in means choosing to stay present and curious when a conversation feels uncomfortable, rather than withdrawing to avoid risk. It is the recognition that avoidance is not neutral — silence and stand-offishness carry their own message, and that message is often felt as exclusion by the very people we are trying to include.

The OMG moment

One of the biggest barriers to inclusion is the fear of getting it wrong. I have seen it in boardrooms, in workshops, in hallway conversations. Someone thinks: What if I say the wrong thing? What if I use the wrong word? What if I cause offence? And then, almost without realising it, they pull back. They stop asking questions. They avoid the person entirely. They stay quiet in meetings rather than risk embarrassment.

I call it the OMG moment — that flash of anxiety where the fear of getting it wrong freezes you in place. It is entirely human. But if we do not learn to move through it, it becomes its own problem.

Why avoidance reads as exclusion

Here is the thing about body language: we cannot hide it. When we are nervous, when we are concerned about getting something wrong, we become standoffish. We avoid eye contact. We keep conversations short. We do not invite people in. And the person on the receiving end does not know that we are nervous — they experience the effect, not the cause. They feel avoided. They feel like they do not belong.

So the fear of causing harm ends up causing a different kind of harm. The withdrawal that was meant to protect actually excludes. This is why leaning away is never truly safe, even when it feels like the cautious option.

This connects directly to what I explore in the guide on agreeing to understand — the idea that genuine dialogue requires us to stay in the room, even when it is uncomfortable.

The antidote: lean in with curiosity and humility

The challenge is to overcome this fear — and to use emotional intelligence and cultural intelligence to do it. That does not mean pretending to know things you do not know. It means showing up with an open question rather than a closed silence.

  • Ask rather than assume. A simple "I want to make sure I get this right — is there anything I should know?" signals respect, not ignorance.
  • Name your uncertainty. Saying "I am still learning about this" is not a weakness. It is an invitation for the other person to help you understand, and most people welcome that.
  • Stay in the conversation. When something feels awkward, resist the urge to change the subject or exit. Staying present — even imperfectly — matters more than polished confidence.
  • Listen to understand, not to respond. Give people the space to tell you who they are, rather than projecting what you expect them to be.

Getting it wrong and repairing — better than never trying

You will get things wrong. That is not failure; it is the cost of genuine engagement. What matters is what happens next. A brief, honest acknowledgement — "I got that wrong, thank you for telling me" — followed by a genuine effort to do better is worth more than a lifetime of careful avoidance.

People are far more forgiving of a sincere mistake than of someone who never tried. Avoidance communicates indifference. A repaired mistake communicates that the relationship matters enough to get it right.

This is especially important in allyship. If you want to understand what it means to be a genuine ally — for example, how to be a trans ally at work — leaning in is where it starts. Not with perfect knowledge, but with the willingness to show up and try.

This is active allyship in practice

Active allyship is not a grand gesture. It is a series of small choices to stay present, to ask, to listen, and to repair. Every time you choose to lean in rather than lean away, you are doing the work. You are signalling to the people around you that they are worth the discomfort. That is what inclusion looks and feels like from the inside.

  • Lean in when a colleague mentions something about their identity that you do not fully understand — ask a genuine question.
  • Lean in when a meeting goes somewhere unfamiliar — stay with it rather than steering back to safe ground.
  • Lean in when you have made a mistake — acknowledge it and keep going.
  • Lean in when the silence feels easier — because the silence is never truly neutral.

Take it further

Read the guide on emotional intelligence and inclusion for the skills that support this kind of engaged presence, or get in touch to talk about bringing these ideas into your organisation through a keynote or workshop.

Bring this conversation into your organisation

Book a free 30-minute discovery call to explore how a keynote or workshop on inclusion, allyship and psychological safety could work for your people and your context.

Book a discovery call

Frequently asked questions

Why does the fear of getting it wrong make things worse?

When we are anxious about saying the wrong thing, our body language closes off — we become standoffish, we avoid eye contact, we pull back from conversation. Other people read that withdrawal as coldness or disinterest, which itself feels like exclusion. The very fear of causing harm ends up causing a different kind of harm: the person we are trying not to offend feels unseen and avoided.

What does "leaning in" actually mean in practice?

It means choosing curiosity over avoidance. It means asking a question rather than staying silent, saying "I am not sure I have this right — please correct me" rather than saying nothing at all, and staying present in a conversation even when you feel uncomfortable. It does not mean performing enthusiasm or pretending to know more than you do. It means showing up with humility and genuine interest in the other person.

What should I do if I do say the wrong thing?

Acknowledge it, apologise briefly, and move on — do not over-explain or make the moment about your own discomfort. A simple "I got that wrong — thank you for telling me" goes a long way. The repair matters more than the mistake. People are far more forgiving of a genuine slip followed by honest acknowledgement than of someone who never tried at all.