The Year of Shut the F*ck Up!

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About a year ago, I made a decision that felt simple and uncomfortable at the same time.

I decided to talk less. To shut the f*ck up.

I’ve always been a verbal processor. Talking is how I think, work through ideas, and make sense of complexity. Silence has never felt neutral to me—it’s felt inefficient.

That’s what made this hard.

Why I Chose Silence

I chose silence because I realized I was missing something in conversations.

I was spending more time with CEOs trying to scale, optimize, and grow their companies, and I kept seeing the same pattern. The strategy was usually sound. The tools were there. And yet the same issues kept resurfacing.

When I jumped in to solve the issue or crisis, it often wasn’t what people were actually looking for. I assumed they wanted answers or direction. Sometimes they did. More often, they didn’t.

What they wanted first was space.

They wanted to talk through what they were seeing, what they were worried about, and where they felt stuck—without being interrupted or rushed toward a solution. They wanted someone to listen long enough for the real issue to take shape.

I also started to notice that when I moved too quickly into problem-solving mode, I was solving my version of the problem, not necessarily theirs. By trying to be helpful, I was sometimes skipping the part of the conversation that mattered most.

So instead of trying to be clearer or faster, I tried something else.

I stayed quiet a little longer.

What I Started to Hear

When I listened longer, the conversations didn’t immediately get better.

In some ways, they got more awkward. People were looking to me, as the advisor, to step in and solve their problems. And in my head, I usually had answers, plans, and a strategy ready to go.

The problem was that it was my version.

I hadn’t listened long enough to fully hear theirs.

When I did, I started hearing more than ideas or potential solutions. I started hearing fear around making the wrong call. Self-doubt about whether they could actually deliver. Discomfort with having difficult conversations—with a peer, a direct report, or an executive where the issue looked technical on the surface but was really human underneath.

Once those things surfaced, the situation made more sense. The work was no longer about fixing a plan or refining a strategy. It was about addressing what was actually in the way.

And that changed where my input was useful.

The Shift

As I listened more, something else shifted.

I felt less pressure to talk just to stay involved. Instead, I could step back, synthesize what I was hearing, and contribute at a higher level—connecting dots, naming patterns, or framing the issue once it had fully surfaced.

That made it easier to be honest.

When people felt heard, the conversation could handle more truth. It became easier to say the thing that actually needed to be said, even if it was uncomfortable.

Over time, this also made me a better problem solver.

Not because I suddenly had better ideas—but because I was solving the right problems more often.

The Result

After a year of talking less than felt natural:

• I got better at identifying the real root cause of problems

• I understood people’s motivations, fears, and perceptions more clearly

• I was able to synthesize conversations and contribute at a higher level

• I became more honest and direct in ways conversations could handle

• I became a better problem solver by focusing on what actually mattered
  

Ironically, speaking less made my contribution more valuable.

The Point

This wasn’t about becoming quieter as a personality trait.

It was about recognizing that rushing to solve things often gets in the way of understanding what’s actually happening.

Sometimes the most useful thing you can do in a conversation isn’t to say more.

It’s to shut the f*ck up—long enough to understand what really needs to be solved.

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If this sounds familiar, it’s often because the real issue hasn’t surfaced yet — and that’s usually where the work starts.