Warmth, Firmness and Responsibility
Some things I am learning about boundaries, rejection and healthy leadership.
Being firm does not mean I have stopped caring
Something I’ve been reflecting on in my own leadership lately is how I respond when somebody is disappointed by a boundary, guideline or decision. It’s not like I discovered this just by myself. Some of it has come through counsel and support, and through people helping me recognise patterns in myself.
There seems to be a regular pattern in me at times:
Something happens → I identify a concern or risk → I clarify an expectation or boundary → somebody feels singled out, rejected, argumentative or misunderstood → I then spend a lot of time reassuring, explaining and sometimes almost trying to soften the decision.
Part of that, for me, has probably come from some of my own experiences and background trauma. I’ve had to recognise that I can experience quite strong rejection sensitivity, sometimes described as RSD. That can make somebody else’s disappointment, withdrawal, frustration or sense of rejection feel much bigger internally than it actually needs to be.
That’s something I’m learning about myself. But I’m also learning that I can’t allow fear of somebody rejecting me, being disappointed, becoming frustrated or thinking badly of me to control how I lead.
I don’t think reassurance is wrong. I actually think good leadership should be warm, relational and compassionate. I do want people to feel heard and valued, even when I disagree with them or have to make a difficult decision.
But I’m also recognising that I can sometimes go too far with reassurance, and it can even become exhausting. In fact, I think some of my burnout comes more from situations like these than from things that might appear much bigger from the outside.
And I am seeing that if every boundary ends up becoming a long conversation, repeated explanations or lots of qualification, it can unintentionally give the impression that the boundary itself is negotiable if somebody feels strongly enough about it.
Sometimes mature leadership simply has to be able to say:
“I understand this is disappointing, and I’m happy to listen to how you feel, but the guideline or action I am taking still stands.”
That isn’t harsh or uncaring. It’s something I’m having to learn and become more resolute about: warmth and firmness can exist together. Healthy leadership doesn’t mean overworking to make sure nobody is ever disappointed. Sometimes a leader’s responsibility is simply to explain something clearly, treat people kindly, make sure they have been heard and then allow them the freedom to process it, without feeling that we have to keep defending, changing or softening the boundary. Especially in my case, when I sometimes have to take into account not only the person in front of me, but also the wellbeing of the team I'm leading and the wider church.
And sometimes people may still misunderstand us, disagree with us or even distance themselves from us. That can be painful, particularly if rejection is something we are sensitive to. But leadership cannot ultimately be governed by the need to be liked or by fear of losing relationship.
For me, I think part of growing in leadership is learning that I can genuinely love somebody, listen to them and care about how they feel, while still saying, “No, this is where the boundary stays.”
I am responsible for how I lead and how I treat people, but I cannot take responsibility for every reaction somebody has to a necessary decision or change. Ultimately, I am serving God. That means I need to remain humble, open to correction and willing to examine myself. But it also means I cannot make leadership decisions simply around keeping everybody happy or avoiding rejection.
I think that is one of the things I am learning most at the moment: being loving does not mean avoiding every difficult decision, and being firm does not mean I have stopped caring.
© 2026 Darren Roy
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