I almost sent a text I would have regretted.

Someone had misinterpreted something I’d said, and I wanted to fix it — without making things worse. So I started composing a carefully worded message before I caught myself. Instead of hiding behind my iPhone screen, I picked it up and called her.

Within five minutes, what could have spiraled into a drawn-out misunderstanding was resolved. My voice did what twenty text messages never could — conveying my genuine concern, clearing the air, and ending with a laugh.

It reminded me how powerful (and increasingly rare) a real, unscripted (and yes, sometimes messy and awkward) conversation has become.

Chances are, you’ve seen it too: a group of young people sitting together, all on their phones — more likely to text a meme than share a real fear. I call this the connection paradox — surrounded by communication tools, yet starved of genuine connection.

At the heart of it lies something subtle but powerful: a growing reluctance to brave the awkward moments that real connection demands.

We’ve become masters of impression management — curating, editing, scripting — but amateurs at vulnerability.

We draft and redraft our replies. Some even put them into ChatGPT to polish (and yes, I see the irony of writing that here). But beneath all that polish often lies fear — fear of judgment, rejection, fumbling our words, or losing face.

“The leaders I work with rarely struggle to set strategy. What they struggle with most? The awkward conversations that bring that strategy to life.”

And it’s not just Gen Z I’m talking about. We all do it. Even seasoned leaders I work with often find themselves avoiding discomfort. Just last week, I asked a group of executives where they most regret not being braver in their careers. The majority said it was in addressing people issues. One shared:

“I should have let someone go sooner. I kept hoping things would turn around, even though I knew that was unlikely. It just felt easier to delay.”

It’s rarely a lack of intellect or information that holds leaders back — or perpetuates their biggest (avoidable) problems. It’s fear. Fear of the fallout. Fear of confrontation. Fear of defensiveness. Fear of holding people accountable — and the tension that may follow.

In an AI-fueled world of polished communication, genuine connection has never been rarer — or more valuable.

Because it’s not in grand declarations of strategy that trust and culture are built. It’s in the small, courageous, messy moments of human honesty that bring those strategies to life. Yet these are precisely the moments where courage counts most — not in setting bold strategies, but in having the honest, human conversations that bring them to life.

Long before GenAI came along, we were already defaulting to digital distance — sending emails instead of talking, texting instead of calling, posting instead of showing up. (I even wrote a Forbes column on “talking over texting” back in 2012.)

Now, with AI permeating every corner of our lives, communication requires even less of us. It doesn’t just make it easier to avoid awkward conversations — it spares us the effort of even crafting them. But here’s the thing: when something feels too easy, it often is.

“Every time we dodge an awkward moment, we weaken the interpersonal muscle that builds authentic connection and trust — and widen the gap between the influence we have and the influence we want.”

Because it’s not our perfect delivery that earns trust — it’s our willingness to be real. To show up unscripted. To be uncertain and sometimes clumsy. To be fully, awkwardly, imperfectly human. No wonder people today are more connected than ever — yet feel more alone.

📉 In 1990, 75% of Americans said they had a best friend. Today, only 59% do.

📉 The share of people with no close friends at all has quadrupled.

📉 Only 23% of employees say they feel truly connected at work.

📉 Gen Z reports the highest levels of anxiety and loneliness in the workplace.

This isn’t coincidence. It’s the predictable result of a culture fluent in emojis and memes but less practiced in emotional nuance, conversation, and good old-fashioned eye contact. Another irony: we end up experiencing more stress over time than the discomfort we sought to avoid.

We often suffer more from the compounded stress of avoiding an awkward moment that requires us to lay our vulnerability on the line than from braving the moment itself.

It’s why one of the most underrated superpowers today is our willingness to brave the awkward. To make the ask. To give the feedback. To extend the invite. To say how we really feel. Because the things we most want — trust, influence, belonging, confidence, connection — are often waiting just past the awkward moment we least want to face.

If we want to raise braver kids, build stronger teams, and nurture more connected communities, we must re-normalize the awkwardness that comes with being human.

We have to be the ones who go first — who pick up the phone, who start the honest conversation, who say:

“I’m sorry.” “I need help.” “I’m feeling upset.” “I don’t quite know how to say this, but…”

Because in today’s curated world of polished perfection, people are hungry for what’s real. I know I’m not alone when I say I’d much rather build a relationship or work with someone who fumbles over their words but speaks from the heart than someone who hides behind a screen.

So next time you’re tempted to send a perfectly edited message — or say nothing at all — pause.

Ask yourself:

“What might open up if I were willing to brave the awkward moment?”

Connection isn’t built through perfect performance. It’s built through genuine presence.

For over 30 years, scientists had been observing Japanese monkeys (Macaca fuscata) in the wild. In 1952, they began an experiment—dropping sweet potatoes in the sand for the monkeys to find. The monkeys loved the taste but hated the gritty sand that clung to them.

Then one day, an 18-month-old monkey named Imo made a discovery. She could solve the problem by taking her potato to the water’s edge to wash before eating it. She taught this trick to her mother, then her playmates learned it and taught their mothers too.

For six years, the older monkeys stubbornly clung to the old way. But eventually, almost overnight, a critical mass adopted this new behavior—what researchers called the “Hundredth Monkey Effect.” The practice spread rapidly across the entire tribe, and washing potatoes became the new norm.

While claims that the behavior suddenly leaped to other tribes across the island lack evidence, what’s undisputed is this: a single monkey’s change in behavior sparked a cultural shift that spread throughout her community.

The importance of this story is its principle:

Individual behaviors can create a ripple effect that changes collective norms and reshapes the whole.

What social scientists call “social contagion”—the well-documented phenomenon where behaviors, attitudes, and norms spread through populations once they reach a critical threshold.

As research consistently shows, when enough individuals within a group adopt new behaviors, change accelerates exponentially until it becomes the new standard. Whether we’re talking about safety practices in organizations, cultural shifts in communities, or social movements, the pattern holds: individual choices have a ripple effect, spreading outward spreading out to shape new norms.

Right now, as political polarization reaches dangerous new heights, we’re witnessing the darkest ripples take hold. Political violence has claimed lives. Assassination attempts have become part of our political discourse. Too many people now view those who disagree with them not as fellow citizens with different perspectives, but as enemies to be defeated—or worse, eliminated.

Fear breeds more fear. Hatred fuels more hatred. What was once unthinkable—celebrating violence against political opponents or business leaders—is becoming normalized in some circles. Dehumanization hasn’t just crept into our culture; it’s taken root.

Yet just as negative ripples spread, so too can positive ones.

So too can civility, courage, and compassion.

So too can the choice to see the humanity and inherent goodness in those with whom we don’t see eye to eye, and to speak in ways that respect the dignity of our fellow humans, regardless of whether we agree with them.

As I wrote in The Courage Gap:

Change happens in circles, not rows.

It doesn’t take everyone to change everything. But if we each take responsibility for our personal agency, we can contribute to collective change. Whether it is one hundred monkeys or one million, each of us can do our part. Here are four ways you could start this week:

1. Practice the pause. Before responding to something that triggers you—whether it’s a social media post, a comment at work, or a heated dinner conversation—take a breath. Ask yourself: “Will my response add to the division or help bridge it?” Choose your words accordingly.

2. Lead with curiosity, not judgment. When someone shares a view that differs from yours, try saying: “Help me understand your perspective” or “What led you to that conclusion?” Genuine curiosity disarms defensiveness and opens dialogue.

3. Call out the good. When you see someone choosing civility over contempt or respect over ridicule—acknowledge it. A simple “I appreciate how you handled that” reinforces positive behavior and encourages others to follow suit.

4. Choose one relationship to repair. Think of someone you’ve written off or distanced yourself from due to differing views. Reach out with genuine intent to reconnect as humans first, not opposing sides. It might be uncomfortable, but discomfort generally precedes breakthrough.

Change happens in circles, not rows. What ripple will you choose to spread?

Just last week, my youngest son Matt graduated from Baylor University. As he walked that stage—broad smile, degree in hand, future wide open—I felt incredibly proud and a little relieved. After all, this was the same kid who once told his first-grade teacher he’d “rather get drunk and die than learn to read.” 

And while Matt has always marched to the beat of his own drum, I’d like to think that some of my advice helped him get to this point. Not that he has listened to near as much as I’d like. Nor his three siblings. But I keep offering wisdom—because every now and again, miracle of miracles, some actually lands.

And while no one has invited me to give a commencement address this year, here are nine things I’d like to share with every newly minted grad who is stepping off the stage and launching into “adultland” right now.

1. Be an adult.

As simple as it sounds, this is the hard part. Being an adult means taking full responsibility for your life. Not blaming your parents for their short comings, or your lousy boss, or anyone else for what’s working or not working in your life. Even when you’ve been treated unfairly (and you will be at times), refuse to fall victim to a victim mindset that will only siphon the very agency you need to improve your situation.

There will be many things you cannot control on your path ahead. But the one thing you can control, is how you show up for life. So show up on time. Treat people well. Don’t spend more than you earn. Pay back what you borrow. Promptly. Be polite. Get back to people. Look people in the eye. Extend your hand to shake first. Open the door. Send a follow-up note. Handwritten even better. Exercise your body. Eat good food to balance out the rest.

And when you mess up—and you will—own it, clean it up (master apologizing!), learn the lesson and move on. Most of all, be the kind of person others would want to recommend, work with, hang out with, and employ: reliable, respectful, generous, honest, ready to pitch in even when it’s not your job. That’s the kind of adult the world needs more of. This is all entirely in your control. If you do it (because many your age won’t), you’ll stand out in every room you enter.

2. Give yourself permission to make imperfect decisions.

Do you remember how stressed you were about choosing the right college? 

Maybe you got it right. Maybe it wasn’t the ideal fit. Either way, you still learned something.   And hopefully one of those lessons is that there is no “perfect” college, job, city, friend or partner. Some of your best growth will happen in places that don’t fit. That’s not failure—it’s feedback.

Research by psychologist Barry Schwartz on “maximizers” (those who try to make the perfect decision) vs. “satisficers” (those who make a good enough choice and adjust) shows that maximizers experience lower satisfaction and more regret. Translation: don’t overthink it. Choose, move, adjust. Make the best decision you can with what you know. Trust yourself to figure the rest out as you go along.

3. Run your own best race

No one else on the entire planet has your mix of talents, opportunities, or interests. Nor has anyone had your exact same path. So do not try to walk anyone else’s.

Ask yourself: What do you want? Not your parents. Not your professor. Not your friends or your social feed.

When I interviewed Bronnie Ware, a former palliative care nurse, on my Live Brave Podcast, she shared with me one of the biggest regrets of the dying:

“I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

Try out new things. Figure out what gives you energy. What aligns with your values. What stretches you. What broadens how you think and see the world and makes you proud of who you’re becoming. And then follow that path—even if no one else quite understands it. And if you want to change it, change it and don’t lock yourself into one narrow vision. Many of the most interesting careers didn’t exist a decade ago. According to the World Economic Forum, 65% of today’s primary school kids will work in jobs that don’t yet exist.

Let yourself be surprised. Stay open. Be curious. Just don’t let what other people are doing with their lives determine what you’ll do with your own

4. Brave awkward moments with people

The world is more connected than ever—and yet young people like you are lonelier and more isolated than ever. Why? Because that phone you hold in your hand enables you to avoid the real work and awkward moments that are required to forge truly meaningful relationships.

So pick up the phone and make a call, even when it feels awkward. And when you go out, put your phones away and engage in real, sometimes slightly awkward, conversations that build trust and deepen emotional intimacy.

Yes, emotional intimacy – it’s a thing. It’s about being real, not photo-shopped. There’s a profound difference between an online social network and a real one.

https://www.forbes.com/sites/margiewarrell/2020/10/29/talk-more-type-less-real-conversations-build-more-meaningful-connections/

5. Embrace your struggles

I get it—why would anyone want to embrace their struggles? Surely it’s better to avoid them, right?

Not so.

I’m not suggesting you go out of your way to make life harder than it already is. But I am saying that when you embrace your struggles, you expand your capacity to handle them. You build your bandwidth for life. You learn more about yourself. And you grow.

Because the truth is, we don’t grow when everything goes our way. We grow when it doesn’t.

There’s a reason botanists put young plants in hot houses and gradually expose them to wider variations in temperature. It’s how they develop the resilience they’ll need to survive in the real world. The same goes for us.

As you step into the world, know this: challenges are guaranteed. But you’ll navigate them far better if you don’t rail against them. Instead, embrace them as part of your journey—lessons in the grand masterclass that is life.

We cannot thrive without the struggle. It’s what introduces us to ourselves at the deepest level. It’s what teaches us what we’re made of.

Life isn’t linear. Yours will have many twists and turns. More than you might expect. Embrace them with curiosity, not self-pity; with adventure, not anxiety. As I’ve come to learn, sometimes the storms you think are ruining your path are really just revealing it.

But don’t just take it from me—research by the American Psychological Association finds that our ability to adapt to what life brings our way is one of the strongest predictors of long-term success and wellbeing.

6. Find the treasure when you trip

You will fail. Welcome to the club.

But here’s the secret: the people who look like they’re winning? They’ve failed more than you. They just didn’t let it define them and learned to mine the nuggets of gold when they tripped up or life knocked them down.

Jerry Seinfeld froze during his first-ever stand-up performance and was booed off stage. He showed up again the next night.
J.K. Rowling was rejected by 12 publishers before someone finally took a chance on Harry Potter.
Greta Gerwig—director of Barbie, Little Women, and Lady Bird (one of my favorites)—was rejected by every single graduate film school she applied to.

A few years ago, I would’ve told you your worth isn’t defined by your SAT score. Now I’ll tell you it’s not defined by the job you land, the salary you earn (or don’t earn!), or your latest rejection email.

As positive psychologist Martin Seligman found in his research, people who explain their failures as temporary and specific—rather than personal and permanent—are far more likely to bounce back, press on, and ultimately succeed.

Failure is an event, not a verdict on your potential. It doesn’t mean you don’t have what it takes. It means you’re learning what it takes. Look for the treasure when you trip. 

https://www.forbes.com/sites/margiewarrell/2014/02/25/how-do-you-explain-your-failures-it-matters-more-than-you-think/

7. Reach out to people who see life differently  

There are many people who know things that you don’t because they’ve lived longer or just had experience you haven’t had. Likely both.

Be proactive in getting the advice of many people. Not just those with whom you feel a natural affinity, but those who you don’t. People who come from very different paths. Who look different. Dress different. Vote different.

And when you’re talking to them, listen for what you can learn and for what you might be wrong about. You don’t know what you don’t know despite all those hours of study. Be willing to change your mind. Don’t let your ego’s desire to think you know more and are somehow better than other people keep you from learning something that might help you chart a wiser way forward.

Your worldview is just that. Yours. And I’ll wager a large bet that you’ve got a lot more blind spots than you know.

That said, if some well-meaning adult—except me, of course—is giving you advice and it just doesn’t fit, pop it on your mental shelf, tune into your intuition, and trust your gut.  No one else knows exactly what is right for you. Just don’t be pig-headed about it.

8. Challenge the stories keeping you stuck, stressed, or living too safe

This may sound contrary to what I just wrote, but be careful not to believe everything you tell yourself. It’s not all true.

You’ve been fed a lot of information over many years—online, offline, from experts and influencers, from teachers and parents—and much of it will have served you. But don’t park your critical thinking. In fact, now that you’re out in adultland during a time when many people gravitate to echo chambers, you need to practice it more than ever.

If everyone around you is saying the same thing, go spend time with people who are saying just the opposite.

And if you’re stuck on a negative talk track about yourself—focused on your deficits, how you are just not smart enough, outgoing enough, connected enough (fill-in-the-blank enough)—then ask yourself what might be possible if you never bought into this false narrative again. Then act on that thought.

The biggest barrier you are going to face over the rest of your life is the narrative you’re spinning inside your own head.

If you catch yourself thinking “I’m not good enough,” “I don’t belong,” or “I have to have it all figured out”—pause. Challenge that. Your mind’s job is to keep you safe, not to help you soar. That’s your job.

As I wrote in my latest book The Courage Gap (an excellent gift for any new grad—no bias, of course), our stories can keep us stuck, stressed, and living a smaller life than we have it within us to live. So challenge yours regularly, and if it’s not making you feel better or braver, rescript it.

9. Bet on yourself. Often.

If there’s one thing I hope you take with you, it’s this:

It’s the chances you don’t take that you’ll regret the most.

So often, we already know what we need to do—speak up, reach out, take the leap, change direction.

But knowing isn’t the hard part.
Doing is.

Between what we know and what we do lies a gap. Fear widens that gap—fear of failing, of looking foolish, of not being enough, of falling flat on your face… in front of your friends.

And it takes courage to close it.

Courage isn’t about eradicating fear. Nor should you try. You’d have likely done even more dumb things in your teens without it. Rather, it’s embracing fear as fuel for growth, defying self-doubt, and stepping bravely… nervously… awkwardly… forward anyway. Because the most important bet you’ll ever make is the one you make on yourself.

Twenty years from now, it’s unlikely that the most successful people from your graduation class will be the ones who got the top grades (chances are, they will still be the most stressed). More likely, it will be those who worked hard and backed themselves, again and again, and didn’t let their fears, their failures, or their frenemies define them.

Your future is a wide, open canvas. And you’re holding the paintbrush. Not every stroke will be perfect. Some will be darker, some lighter. But it’s the contrast that creates the masterpiece that will one day be your life.

So don’t wait until you have it all figured out.
Brave the awkward. Take the chance. Bet on yourself.

We need your leadership.

Live Bravely,

Margie

Today is Good Friday, a sacred day in the Christian calendar and one that holds special significance for me and my family.

It was on Good Friday 17 years ago that my older brother Frank was injured in a motorbike accident that left him with paraplegia, unable to ever walk again. And it was on Good Friday, 15 years ago, that my youngest brother Peter ended his life after a long battle with mental illness. After Peter’s death, Frank joked that perhaps we should rename it Bad Friday.

Of course, we haven’t. Not because it doesn’t hold painful memories, but because at the heart of Good Friday—and the holy Easter season—is the most eternal message of hope. Hope that however large our loss, our grief will ease. Hope that no matter how raw our heart, it will heal—and that our life, while never the same, can be remade whole.

My family late 70s—pre the arrival of my sister Cath!

Of course, amid dark times, despair can knock hard on our door, tempting us to fall into self-pity, to blame, to rage at life, or cave to despair.

Why this? Why me? Why now? It’s not fair!

Nope, life is not fair. It’s why the times that wrench the hardest on your heart require you to sit with your sadness and nurse your aching heart—embracing the full spectrum of your humanity and letting go of expectations of how your life should be. Because amid the ashes of shattered dreams and broken expectations lie the seeds of new beginnings–

To put down deeper roots into the soil of our lives.

To blossom in new ways.

To grow into new dimensions of our own humanity,

And become present to the sacred that flows along the deeper stream of life.

It is no small task to surrender our well-laid plans and trust that every struggle and disappointment, in every hardship and heartache, lies a silent invitation to live more deeply and love more bravely.

Yet it is perhaps the ultimate act of courage to keep our hearts wide open the full spectrum of human emotions, however raw they make us feel.

As I wrote about in The Courage Gap while reflecting on my mums decline with dementia (p 86):

Attempting to cherry-pick the emotions we feel not only cuts us off from our full humanity but confines us to living in the middle octave of life where we risk arriving at life’s end with an unlived life still inside of us. We humans aren’t wired to embrace the low notes—those uncomfortable and painful emotions that trigger our deepest vulnerability. We’re wired for the exact opposite: to protect ourselves from pain. Yet the avoidance of suffering is a form of suffering.

We may not share the same faith, but whatever you believe, on this Good Friday, I hope you’ll be mindful of the reason for this Easter season and the message of the cross—to retain hope amid your heartache and keep faith despite your fear. Indeed, hope is risk that must be run.

Life is precious, it’s fragile and it’s finite.

So loosen your grip on how you think it ‘should’ be,

And stay open to what might yet become. When all is said and done, hope is a risk that must be run.

Sometimes the storms we think are ruining our path are really just revealing it.

Happy Easter and Live bravely!

Margie

“We can’t all have the textbook life we once imagined at 18, 21, or 30. Life is what it is. Your future depends on the decisions you make from here on.”

I’ll never forget the day my brother Frank was told he’d never walk again. I sat beside him in his hospital bed, ten days after a motorbike accident severed his spinal cord, leaving him paralyzed from the waist down.

He gazed past the end of his bed, beyond his lifeless legs, contemplating the years ahead, trying to grasp the enormity of the news. He would never walk, run, or dance again – activities he loved dearly, especially Swing dancing.

It was overwhelming. Too much for any moment. As I held his hand, I fought back tears. This was not my time to cry.

After several long minutes, Frank squeezed my hand. “There may be a thousand things I can’t do anymore,” he said, looking at me with firm conviction, “but there are still 5,000 things I can do. And I intend to do them all.”

I had never been prouder of my big brother than in that moment.

In the 16 years since then, Frank has continued to inspire me countless times. He refuses to be defined by what he cannot do and remains determined to make the most of all he can do. Despite facing numerous challenges related to his paraplegia, including many hospital visits, his ‘can do’ spirit has never dimmed. A recent visit to stay with me in Virginia, all the way from his small farm in Australia – just across the road from the dairy farm where we grew up – is a testament to that. (Here’s a photo of us, looking grubby as farm kids often do.)  

I made sure Frank’s journey to visit me was worth his mighty effort. From touring the White House and witnessing the US Senate in session to boating on Chesapeake Bay and exploring Manhattan – we covered a lot of ground and captured many memories!

Traveling is more challenging for Frank. Much more. Health is more challenging. Life is more challenging. Staying in my 240-year-old home, scoring ‘F’ on disability access, was plenty challenging. Yet, he did it. Without complaint. Without fuss. He simply got on with it.

Amidst our adventures, we recorded a podcast that offers insight into Frank’s perspective on life – a gift to be lived fully, pursuing growth despite its discomfort, embracing adventure amid its inconvenience, and focusing on what you can do rather than what you can’t.

Let’s face it, it’s easy to get caught up in negative thinking, dwelling on what’s unfair, what we can’t do, what we don’t want or have, or what shouldn’t have happened. Our brains are wired to focus on deficits. But what you focus on expands. If all you dwell on deficits, you gradually shrink your comfort zone and lose sight of the possibilities beyond it.

To honor Frank’s spirit, I will be running the New York Marathon this November, raising funds for spinal injury research with the Christopher Reeve Foundation. Your support means a lot to me as I step far beyond my comfort zone. Having grown up internalizing the affectionate label ‘bumblefoot’ from my dad, this is me breaking out of my own mental barriers to accomplish something I once thought impossible.  

So, let me ask you:

What could you achieve if you focused all your energy on what you can do?

As you listen to our podcast, I hope Frank’s ‘just do it’ mindset inspires you as it has inspired me. In a recent LinkedIn post from the day Frank arrived in Virginia, which also marked the first anniversary of our mum’s passing, I shared that while we don’t choose the cards we’re dealt in life, we need to play them to their fullest. 

Here’s to living boldly; to being the captain of your life, not the captive of your circumstances.