Be Encouraged

Why being there isn’t the same as showing up

Here’s a confession that probably won’t shock you.

I like to be liked.

I like when people stop by my office to check in or tell me about their weekend. The problem is… I don’t always like the drop-in. This already feels like the start of a Seinfeld episode.

I’m also a guy who runs on routines. My morning is pretty structured. If I’m starting the day with a run before work, my routine is to start the day a little earlier. If it’s not a run day, it starts a little later — but the same things happen in the same order before I walk out the door. When I get to the office, same thing. There are things I check. Meetings I make sure I’m ready for. Reflecting on yesterday and prepping for today.

When these two realities exist in the same space, there’s a tension I wrestle with. I want to “like” the conversation and I already “like” my routine. When someone wants to spend a few minutes telling me about their evening, I can enjoy that. For a little while. Then the thoughts start entering my brain, reminding me that I’m not getting to the routine I like.

That’s when I start employing my series of subtle non-verbal signals. Shifting in my chair. Looking at my watch. Getting up to refill a coffee cup that is still three-quarters full. Excusing myself to use the restroom because I have consumed an entire three sips of coffee.

I have a problem of my own making.

The Open Door

For a long time, I told myself that an open door was a mark of good leadership. Always available. Always accessible. If someone needed me, I was there. I wore it like a badge.

What I didn’t examine closely enough was what “always available” was actually doing.

I had a leader on my team who struggled with confidence and with trusting their own instincts. They were talented, but more often than not, their version of “I want to run this by you” wasn’t really external processing. It was looking for validation. Permission. And maybe even a bit of cover if things went wrong.

And I gave it to them. Every time. Because that’s what a good leader does, right?

Except it wasn’t serving them. It was serving me. Being needed felt like being useful. An open door meant I was the kind of leader who was approachable, invested, present. Except I wasn’t actually present. I was available. There’s a difference.

Presence means you’re engaged, attentive. Listening — really listening. Listening to learn, not waiting to make your point or fix their problem. Availability is just… showing up without showing up.

What I eventually realized was that they would continue to stay stuck as long as I kept making it comfortable for them to not figure things out on their own. The phrase I finally started using was this: “I’ll support you, but I can’t do it for you.”

That was the beginning of me learning what it actually means to show up for someone. Knowing that didn’t fix it overnight. Insight is one thing. Changing a habit you’ve worn for years is something else. It’s not a lightswitch change — it won’t happen in a moment.

A Different Kind of Open

As I’ve continued to learn and grow in these areas, one decision I’ve made is to frame things up before a pattern can repeat itself. The phrase I landed on: “The door is open for a reason, and the door is closed for a reason.”

Open means come in. Let’s talk. I want to hear what’s going on. Closed means I’m in focused work, and I trust you to figure it out — or at least to take a real run at it before we talk.

That’s a different kind of trust than I was offering before. And it turns out, it’s better. It’s kind.

If you’re wondering what this might look like in practice, here’s what I’m doing.

I’ve added a “prepare and reflect” block to the first thirty minutes of my day. It doesn’t prevent the drop-in, but it gives me a reminder — and permission — to honor my own boundaries.

A colleague of mine takes it a step further — she blocks “team time” on her calendar specifically to make sure she’s proactively connecting with her people on a personal level. That way, when her door is closed, she can close it without guilt. Both approaches get at the same thing: presence has to be protected before it can be offered.

The door opens better when it’s been closed first.

Your Turn

Here’s what I want to ask you.

Are there people on your team who have learned to use your availability as a substitute for their own confidence? Maybe you’ve noticed that the drop-ins happen a little more often before a decision has to be made. Maybe some of the “I just wanted to check in” conversations are actually looking for cover if something goes sideways.

That’s not a criticism of them. It’s worth asking whether you built the conditions for it.

And here’s the other side of it: are you actually present when you’re available? Or are you physically in the room, half-listening, while your brain is somewhere else — mentally shifting in your chair, looking for a reason to wrap it up?

One more thing worth saying. Stepping back from always-available doesn’t mean stepping away when it counts. When something drops, when a decision has real consequences, when someone on your team is genuinely in over their head — you show up. You take responsibility. You don’t use “I trust you to figure it out” as a reason to be unavailable when the stakes are real.

But those moments are different from the morning drop-in about the weekend.

Present

The question isn’t whether your door is open. It’s whether you’re actually present when it matters.

Be Encouraged.