When It’s Not a Failure — It’s a Fit Problem

There is a particular kind of pain that comes from struggling in a role.

Not the everyday stretch-and-grow discomfort, but the deeper, more personal kind — where effort doesn’t translate into impact, where feedback starts to feel loaded, and where you can sense the story about you changing in rooms you’re no longer in.

It can feel like failure.

And yet, often, it isn’t.

It’s a fit problem.

When the System Decides Who You Are

Years ago, I worked in an organization where a senior leader became a quiet cautionary tale.

In leadership meetings and hallway conversations, their name would come up alongside words like ineffective, not strategic enough, not cutting it. There was frustration, sometimes open, sometimes thinly veiled, and a growing sense that this leader simply wasn’t right for the role.

What was harder to see, unless you were paying close attention, was the toll it was taking on them.

The stress.
The constant pressure to adapt.
The subtle erosion of confidence that comes when the environment around you seems perpetually disappointed.

Eventually, they were let go.

And here’s the part that often gets left out of stories like this: not long after, that same leader stepped into a much more senior role in a different organization and flourished.

Different culture.
Different expectations.
Different system.

Same human.

The Myth of Individual Failure

We are remarkably quick to locate performance problems inside people.

They lack resilience.
They don’t have the right skills.
They’re not leadership material.

Much slower are we to ask harder questions about the environment:

• What does this system reward?
• What kinds of leadership styles are valued and which are quietly discouraged?
• What unspoken norms shape who is seen as “effective” here?
• What is this role really asking of someone, beyond the job description?

Sometimes, a role doesn’t fail because someone didn’t try hard enough.

It fails because the system and the person are mismatched.

And no amount of coaching, feedback, or effort can fully compensate for that.

The Myth of Individual Failure

This idea became deeply personal for me through a much smaller, and much furrier story.

We had a cat we absolutely adored. She was gentle, affectionate, and deeply loved. But after a few years, she developed a serious autoimmune response. Her body was, quite literally, attacking itself.

For two years, we worked closely with vets. Medications. Adjustments. Endless hope followed by disappointment.

Eventually, one vet gently suggested something we hadn’t wanted to consider: what if it’s environmental?

Let’s be honest, our house is joyful and chaotic. Kids. Other pets. Noise. Movement. Life.

In a last attempt to help her be well, we agreed to have her fostered in a quieter home, just to see.

The change was remarkable.

She stabilized.
Then improved.
Then thrived.

And as painful as it was, the foster family adopted her. It was, without question, the right decision.

She didn’t fail.

We didn’t fail.

She simply needed a different environment to be healthy.

Grief Still Belongs Here

One of the hardest parts of role misfit, whether for people or cats, is that even when the outcome is right, there is still grief. My friend and colleague Suzanne Fox talks about this in her work.

Grief for what you hoped would work.
Grief for the relationships.
Grief for the identity you were holding inside that role.

We don’t talk enough about the emotional cost of moving on, especially when the story around the departure is complicated or painful.

You can know something is right and mourn it at the same time.

Both can be true.

A Reframe for Leaders and Teams

If you lead people, this is an invitation to slow down the story you’re telling.

Before labeling someone as ineffective, consider:

• Is this role asking for something that doesn’t align with how this person naturally leads?
• Have we confused cultural fit with competence?
• Are we trying to “fix” a person when what actually needs attention is the system?

And if you’re the one struggling in a role, here’s something you may need to hear:

Struggle is not always a signal to try harder.
Sometimes it’s a signal to look wider.

You are not broken because you don’t thrive everywhere.
No one does.

Flourishing Is Contextual

People flourish in environments that can receive them.

Where their strengths make sense.
Where their leadership style is legible.
Where the system doesn’t ask them to constantly override who they are just to survive.

Sometimes, the bravest move isn’t pushing through.

It’s letting go and trusting that somewhere else, the same qualities that were once criticized may be exactly what’s needed.