Nothing About This Looks Right

Yesterday I tried contact lenses for the first time at 51 years old, and I can't shake the feeling that something fundamental has shifted.

Not just my vision (though that's definitely different). It's deeper than that.

See, my face comes with glasses. Has done since I was 17. They're part of who I am. I just don't look right without them!

But over the last year or so - the Garmin got blurry, the coffee menus unreadable, and sometimes the dappled sunshine was hiding a dangerous pothole. I needed to adapt or risk something worse than discomfort.

Because I need to both read and ride, the optician recommended "mono" lenses. One eye for reading (Garmin, menus, the small print), one for distance (road, car, tree). My brain will apparently figure out which eye to use when. It sounds impossible! Like I'm going to spend weeks feeling slightly off-balance whilst my brain rewires itself.

I nod and say yes anyway.

Yesterday, I was on a call with a client who asked if I'd work with their team on how they collaborate more effectively. Good topic, a client I am fond of and on the face of it - absolutely within my capabilities. But it means putting myself in a situation where I may be reminded of past work trauma. My instinct told me to run away, to suggest someone else, to play it safe.

The chimp brain had taken over.

I paused and reminded myself - working independently means you can't plan every piece of work to fall neatly into your comfort zone. If you're doing it right, you're constantly adapting to what's needed - it's not "rinse and repeat". And I am not now, who I was then.

I never wanted contact lenses. I had a mild phobia about even discussing them. I identified as "big glasses guy" and that felt safe, known, and recognisable.

But times change. We change. What people need from us changes.

If you're a senior leader right now, you'll know this tension intimately. The gap between what worked before and what's needed now. The weight of being the person everyone looks to for clarity when you're figuring it out as you go. That moment when you realise the tried and trusted template doesn't quite fit anymore.

It isn't about whether to adapt - you must. The question is whether you'll give yourself permission to feel uncomfortable and learn whilst you do.

My brain will adjust to these lenses. I'll stop thinking about which eye does what. The depth perception issue will resolve itself. And I will do that piece of work I nearly turned down.

I may feel uncomfortable for a while. But like my brain, I'll adapt, I'll relax into it and ultimately wonder what all the fuss was about.

What are you holding back from right now because it doesn't quite look right? What version of yourself are you clinging to that no longer serves where you're trying to go?

Maybe it's time to lean into the blur.

For reflection: What version of yourself are you clinging to that no longer serves where you're trying to go?

If you're navigating this kind of transition - where the old ways feel safe but insufficient, and the new ways feel uncomfortable but necessary - I'd welcome a conversation. I work with senior leaders who are stuck in that in-between space. Let's figure it out together.