When Nobody Else Says Anything
There is a particular kind of loneliness that can arise when something feels really off or wrong, yet nobody else appears to notice.
Perhaps a comment lands strangely in a meeting, or there is an uncomfortable feeling of being diminished. Maybe you notice the information being relayed changes depending on who is in the room. As a result, you begin putting extra effort into meeting preparations, find yourself replaying conversations afterwards and struggle to switch off at night because you are worrying about whether you have misinterpreted or misunderstood what happened.
When you look around you, others seem to be carrying on as normal, so you begin to wonder if it “is it all in my head?”
That begins to bother you, so you start to consider whether you are being too sensitive, taking things the wrong way or perhaps it’s a personal resilience issue since everyone else seems to manage, so perhaps I am the problem.
The absence of a shared response can feel like evidence, even when it is nothing of the sort.
In my conversation with psychotherapist and former C-suite headhunter Kathleen Saxton, she described what she calls “the silence of the sly”, which is the silence that can surround a leader whose behaviour is controlling, undermining or difficult to name. This reflection really resonated for me, because it illuminates something I have encountered many times in conversations about burnout. The exhaustion people experience does not arise only from what one person is doing. It can also grow through the effort of holding an experience that nobody else is acknowledging.
As a result we might notice that we have become watchful. We may find we have developed a habit of scanning the room for signs that confirm or contradict our reading of the situation. We might catch ourselves very carefully editing what we are going to say, anticipating in advance all of the ways that it might be used against us. All the while working harder and harder to remain composed.
Alongside our actual role, we may have slowly but surely started taking on the invisible task of trying to understand the emotional weather around us.
As this continues, our self-trust can begin to fray. Our former tendency to question “what is happening here?” evolves into rumination around “what is wrong with me?”.
What we don’t usually appreciate is that if this is going on for us, then there is likely to be a whole room full of people around us, privately asking themselves the very same question.
Kathleen connected this with the bystander effect. When we are the only person present, responsibility can feel clear. When many people are present, each may assume that somebody else will respond.
In a workplace, silence can then reproduce itself, so I say nothing because you say nothing; you say nothing because I say nothing. Each of us reads the other’s restraint as reassurance, while the person most affected becomes increasingly isolated.
There can be very understandable reasons for that restraint. People may fear retaliation, damage to their reputation or the loss of work on which their family depends. Previous attempts to speak may have been dismissed. A colleague may want to help but have no idea how to do so safely.
Naming these dynamics should not become another way of judging people who are already trying to survive within them.
What feels important is the possibility that silence is not the same as agreement, and that our aloneness may not mean we are alone.
A carefully chosen conversation with somebody safe can begin to restore perspective. So can writing things down, seeking support outside the immediate system, or recognising that the available choices may be more varied than staying exactly where we are or walking away tomorrow. None of these guarantees a simple resolution. They can, however, help us move from confusion towards a clearer relationship with our own experience.
This reminded me of something Dr Richard Duggins spoke about at the very start of this series, in our episode about Burnout-Free Working. Richard described resilience not as something that resides solely within us, but as something that happens between people.
He shared research with doctors who had recovered from burnout and spoke about the importance of “finding their people”, those at work and within their wider communities who shared their values and helped them feel less alone. For some, finding those people made it possible to remain in their role while relating to it differently; for others, those relationships supported them in recognising that something needed to change.
This feels closely connected to Kathleen’s emphasis on allies. An ally may not be able to change the system or resolve the situation for us, but their willingness to listen, reflect back what they notice and stand alongside us can interrupt the isolation in which self-doubt so easily grows. When our experience has been repeatedly minimised, distorted or left unacknowledged, being met by somebody who says, in effect, I see it too, can help us begin to trust what we know again.
Kathleen closed our conversation with the phrase “love and rockets”. Love brings care for ourselves, for others and even for the possibility that people can change. Rockets bring preparation, evidence, courage and movement. I really appreciated the way that she brought them both together because speaking without enough support can leave us exposed, while compassion without action can leave the conditions untouched.
I keep returning to the thought that courage is rarely an entirely individual act. We are strengthened by the courage we witness in others, by the person who quietly says, “I noticed it too,” and by every small act that makes an unspoken experience a little more shareable.
We may not always be ready to speak. We may not yet know what action is possible. But recognising that silence can conceal a shared knowing may be one place from which self-trust, and eventually choice, can begin to return.
Listen and Learn More
This reflective blog post was inspired by my latest Burnout to Brilliance podcast conversation with psychotherapist, executive coach and author Kathleen Saxton. We explore toxic leadership, the Dark Triad, why harmful patterns can remain unspoken, and how people and organisations might begin to respond with greater awareness, support and agency.
🎧 Available now on the Burnout to Brilliance Podcast: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube
If this reflection resonates…
Balanceology offers coaching for people seeking support with burnout prevention and recovery, including coaching with me and with Associate Coaches trained through our trauma-informed, ICF-accredited Balanceology Certified Burnout Coach Programme.
Where experiences would be better supported therapeutically, we can signpost you towards BACP-registered counsellors and psychotherapists.
To explore the most appropriate support, contact hello@balanceology.uk




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