Please, Make That Stop!

Somewhere above the clouds, I got a masterclass in leadership, and humanity, from the row behind me.

It started with the sound of crying.

A mother was seated behind me with a baby and a two-year-old, both melting down mid-flight. For nearly two hours, she stayed calm. 

Patient. 

Regulated. 

I heard her gentle tone as she comforted one child, then the other. I felt the tension in the cabin rise: eye-rolls, heavy sighs, people shifting uncomfortably as though their frustration might help make the crying stop somehow.

This Mama never lost her cool. She just kept showing up for her children. Even when the best way to calm her baby was to stand in the aisle while angry passengers gave her the stink eye, only to have the flight attendant tell this Mama to sit because the seatbelt sign was on.

I found myself drawn in, not just by the noise, but by her presence. So much so that at one point I was moved to look behind me between the seats to tell this Mama how impressed I was over the fabulous job she was doing in one of the most stressful situations for a mom. (In all transparency, this comment was for the benefit of the Mama AND the frustrated passengers around us.)

But when we landed, something caught me by surprise.

As we landed and passengers stood to gather their belongings, I realized there had been a man seated in her row the entire time, that was traveling WITH her. A partner, I presumed, though I hadn’t heard his voice once, hadn’t seen him offer a hand, or a moment of co-parenting… I had only observed her, holding it ALL together.

And as a Self-Aware Leader, I noticed three thoughts swirling through me:

1. How often, as leaders, do we carry the entire emotional weight of a situation alone - juggling needs, managing crises, calming the storm - without asking for help or drawing others in?

2. How often do we sit near someone who is quietly struggling and miss the opportunity to lighten their load? Or worse, cast judgment without offering support?

3. How quickly do we create stories to explain what we see?In this case, I felt frustration at the man beside her. I judged his silence. But I have no idea what I didn’t see. Maybe this mother had asked for space. Maybe he had a fear of flying or a neurodivergence that shaped his response. Maybe this was their way.My brain wanted to assign roles: “patient, present mom,” and “checked-out, unhelpful dad” - but self-awareness reminded me: We never know the whole story, without judgement.

That moment became more than an observation - it became a mirror.

A mirror for how I show up when others are carrying more than their share.A mirror for how I ask (or don’t ask) for help when I need it.A mirror for how quickly I can slip into judgment when compassion would serve better.

That mom showed more leadership in two hours than some people show in a year. She didn’t have a title, but she led with presence. She didn’t give a speech, but her calm held space for chaos. She didn’t ask for applause, but she deserved it.

And as I left the plane, I made a quiet commitment to myself:

To notice more.

To judge less.

To ask better questions. 

To lead, like her, with grace under pressure.

Reflection Questions:

• Where in your life or leadership are you carrying more than your share?

• Who around you might be struggling quietly—and how might you show up for them?

• What assumptions are you making about others that could use a second look?

Today, choose an action- either to show up for yourself or another.  Let me know how it feels HERE.

You Matter!