Truffle Hunting in the Face of Criticism

I will never forget the worst performance review I’ve ever had.

The company I was working for at the time didn’t believe in titles, job descriptions, or formally defined processes. It was a small startup where, even though we had specific roles (software engineer, account executive, etc.), everyone wore many hats and was generally trusted to figure out what they needed to do to further the mission of the company. It was the kind of place where you could expect disagreements to get heated, language to get colorful, and feelings to get hurt; but you also had creative freedom to try new things, and in many ways you felt like you were part of a (albeit slightly dysfunctional) family. It was the first job that made me feel like I truly belonged, and I loved it there. That’s probably what made this hurt so much.

I can’t remember if this was my first or second official performance review, but I know that formal reviews were new to the company and we were still figuring out how to do it well. I’d had a difficult review in the past, but it was at a job that I hated and wasn’t good at no matter how hard I tried. At this company, I was a consistently high performer and was often praised for things I created, so I expected my performance review to be a cake walk. It wasn’t.

It was many years ago, so I don’t remember the details of how it all went down, but here are some things I remember very clearly.

For one thing, my manager didn’t perform the review. He was there, but the CEO led the review and did most of the talking. I assume that my manager had contributed to the evaluation in some way, but it wasn’t clear to me how at the time.

There was little talk about my work product; so little that I don’t remember anything at all that was said, good or bad, about the work I was doing. Most of the review focused on my interpersonal style. I recall the CEO saying that I was perceived as so negative and combative that he often felt anxious if he needed to talk to me about something because he “didn’t know which Jess [he] was going to get.” He informed me that, during one meeting several months earlier, my attitude had been so bad that he decided to withhold a bonus that he was about to give me. And, he said that I walked around looking pissed off all of the time and was making it hard for people to approach me.

I immediately went into a shame spiral - a bad one. I had tunnel vision, my hands were sweaty, my heart was racing, and I was biting my lip hard, saying to myself, “Do NOT cry. Do NOT cry!” as the tears welled up and I held my eyes open wide so that they wouldn’t drip out. In the moment, it didn’t feel like he was saying, “There are some interpersonal communication habits you have that I’d like to address,” it felt like he was saying, “You’re terrible at your job, everyone here hates you, and you make things insufferable for those who have to work with you.” I. Was. Shooketh.

It felt unfair to me because the culture we had at the company was one of brutal honesty, open disagreements, and speaking up when something didn’t sound right, or so I thought. I was observing people around me behaving in much the same way I had been, in many cases much more abrasively or even rude. Additionally, no one including the CEO had ever conveyed to me in any way that my communication style was offputting. I felt blindsided and attacked, and hadn’t yet learned how to dig into critical feedback to find the gems of truth. And, I was furious that I was being perceived so negatively that money was withheld from me, but no one bothered to communicate any of this to me at the time. They let it sit and fester for months, and by the time I was made aware, I didn’t even remember which meeting he was referring to. I felt angry, humiliated, and ashamed.

This moment was the catalyst for me to start learning how to be a better communicator, listener, leader, and person in general. It was the beginning of what I hope will be a lifelong journey to always be better today than I was yesterday.

Here’s something I realize now that I wish I had known then:

Sometimes, listening to criticism or “constructive feedback” is like truffle hunting. You might have to dig through a lot of shit, but if you can stand to dig through it for long enough, you’re going to find valuable nuggets.

The truth is, there was a lot about that performance review that was unfair: the complete absence of feedback in the months leading up to it, the characterizations of me as a person instead of descriptions of the behaviors of mine that needed attention, and the emphasis on how my face looked, among other things.

However, as years have passed and I’ve done more work on myself, I recognize that there were some nuggets of truth in there. I did get defensive when people would question my ideas. If I was passionate about something, my tone often veered into confrontational (I know this was true because it was something I had to address in my personal life as well). When being approached with a new product idea, if I didn’t immediately know how it would work, I would assume it couldn’t be done and shoot it down instead of focusing on possibilities. And, I wasn’t very skilled when I was delivering constructive feedback of my own to others.

The lesson I’ve learned is that we usually can’t control how the giver of feedback delivers their message, and frankly, many folks giving the feedback have plenty of room for improvement. But it’s still on us to listen for the nuggets, be accountable for the energy we are bringing into work or any other interpersonal setting, and do whatever work is required to grow and improve. Now, when I get negative feedback, I tell myself, “This is a truffle hunt, which is a gift. I will find the truffles.”