I Failed Yesterday. Here's What I Learned: Conflict Management Skills

“Life is an experiment.  Every single moment is one we’ve never been in before and sometimes we get it right, and sometimes we swing and it’s a miss.  It’s a learning opportunity, not a character flaw.”   I say that when I teach people in organizations how to normalize conflict and mistakes. I tell leaders that failure is data, not defeat.  It is also inevitable.  I preach that we need to model vulnerability and authentic apologies. And then try again.

SHRM Conference Booth for Best Conflict Solutions

Yesterday, I not only became my own case study, but I had also to look at the fact that I was understating – if not avoiding – how painful it is to fail. 

I tried something different at a SHRM presentation. Based on feedback from previous sessions requesting more Q&A and real problem-solving, I scrapped my 37-slide PowerPoint for an interactive improv format. I wanted to give them what they said they needed, not just what I knew.  Now I could have taken a vote, Power Point or Q&A, but when I talk about negotiation, I talk about voting being a win/ lose proposition.   Zero sum game.   I talk about the “and” instead of “or”.   So, I told the crowd about the “and” - that indeed, they would have the slides and the 9 page “Conflict Ecosystem Implementation Roadmap” and we would talk about what actually keeps them up at night.

This presentation meant a lot to me.  On a scale of 1-10, this one was a 15.  It was a huge opportunity to connect, to represent Best Conflict Solutions, and even most importantly, to provide support to a group of people who work so hard in a time when expectations, blame, and conflict are so high and communication is not at its best - because I believe the real gap isn't about fixing people, it's about building skills.

It did not go well.   Turns out what they wanted was that Power Point.  I could see it when I announced the new format.  Still, I thought it was worth a try, and I persisted. A couple of people got up and left. In all my years of speaking, that's never happened to me.

The Humbling Mirror

There's something profoundly humbling about experiencing exactly what you teach others to navigate. I talk about things going sideways, but I’ve neglected to talk about how painful that is.  It’s not fun to sit with the feeling of having disappointed people. Yesterday, I wasn't the expert teaching about these feelings - I was swimming in them.

Life is an experiment. Sometimes we get it right, sometimes we don't. I know this intellectually. I teach this. But feeling it - really feeling that hot flush of failure when you realize you've misread the room, made the wrong choice, or some "great idea" that flopped (for now) - - when the 'shoulds' start flooding in ('you should have known better, you teach this stuff') -that's a visceral reminder of why people avoid risk and vulnerability.

Loss and Expectations

When things don't go as planned, there's genuine loss. The audience lost the experience they expected. I lost the opportunity to connect with them in the way I'd hoped. We grieve these small losses because they matter to us. No one walks into a room hoping to disappoint. No one sits in an audience hoping to be let down.

Expectations are actually a form of hope. This audience hoped for structure, for the familiar PowerPoint rhythm they could follow. I hoped for breakthrough conversations and real-time problem-solving. Both hopes were valid. Neither was wrong. They just weren't compatible in that moment.

The Apology I Promised

I'd told the audience at the beginning: "If this crashes and burns, I'll model a heartfelt, sincere apology." Life handed me that opportunity on a platter.

At the end of the presentation, I said: "The story I’m telling myself is that you all would have rather had the Power Point.”  I looked around and no one disagreed.  I said, “I promised you that if this did not go well that I would model a good apology.  I am genuinely sorry that I did not provide the experience and information you were hoping for today. You came here for professional development, and my experiment didn't serve your needs. You matter to me, and your experience matters to me. Please let me know how I can make this right for you."

Some accepted the materials I offered. Some shared what they'd hoped to learn. A few even thanked me for trying something different. But I could see others were frustrated, and rightfully so.

Data, Not Defeat

Would I try the same thing again? Maybe. 

I suspect that part of the reason this didn’t work was because I had forgotten how challenging it can be to talk about conflict.  While it’s normal for me, it’s not normal for everyone.  It didn’t occur to me that maybe there were teams together and managers together and confidentiality could be an issue.  There is rarely only one reason things don’t work out.  Maybe the idea wasn't bad - maybe it was the size of the crowd, the 3 PM post-lunch slot, the formality of the setting, or my process for making that pivot. Maybe it would work brilliantly in a smaller workshop or different context. Declaring "I'll never do that again" eliminates a potential tool from my toolkit. What I will do next time is set up clear expectations about what people will be receiving and then try to deliver just that.

What I learned is this: Innovation requires reading the room IN the moment, not just from previous feedback. Some audiences need the safety of structure before they can engage with vulnerability. Some groups want transformation; others want information. Both are valid. I also got to experience exactly how discombobulating it is when someone promises one thing and delivers another. Trust requires doing what we say we're going to do, and trust is paramount for connection. I broke that contract.

The Unexpected Gift

Here's what I know now that I had lost sight of before: When we fail while trying to serve others better, it's a particular kind of ache. It's not about ego (though that stings too). It's about the gap between intention and impact, between what we hoped to give and what was actually received.

This experience is a gift - an uncomfortable, humbling gift. It reminds me why my clients resist change, why employees stick to old patterns, why managers avoid difficult conversations. It's not just fear of failure. It's fear of disappointing others while trying to do something good.

I also realize that although things did not go well at my presentation, the whole conference was not a fail. There were great things that happened too. Yet, that's another story.

Moving Forward

I teach that one person changing their behavior changes the system. Yesterday, I was that person. The system pushed back hard. Some people literally left rather than adapt to the unexpected format. That's not a judgment - it's data about how systems resist change, even when the change is meant to serve them.

Tomorrow, I'll probably use the PowerPoint. But I'll use it differently, because I've been reminded of what it feels like to be the one who got it wrong while trying to get it right. That empathy - that visceral understanding of vulnerability - will make me better at what I do.

Sometimes the best teaching comes from our failures, not our successes. Yesterday, I didn't just teach about conflict resolution and adapting to mistakes - I lived it, publicly and imperfectly.

And that might be the most honest lesson I've ever delivered.

Kimberly Best is a TN and MO Supreme Court-listed mediator, owner of Best Conflict Solutions, LLC, and someone who occasionally learns more from what goes wrong than what goes right. She believes in normalizing both conflict and mistakes - and knows how challenging that can be.