What Conflict Teaches Us About Leadership

On the emotional and reactive cost of conflict, and what I am still learning about leading through it.

No one really tells you, before you step into a leadership role, how much time you will spend dealing with conflict that has very little to do with the work itself.

And do not get me wrong, some of it is serious. Perhaps someone keeps missing deadlines, and every time there is a reason for it. Maybe there was a delay upstream, or they are still waiting for approval, or something unexpected came up. And when you look at each explanation on its own, it can sound completely fair.

But when it keeps happening over months, it starts to look less like bad luck and more like a pattern. That is when the conversation changes. It is no longer an informal check-in about what went wrong. You are documenting concerns, gathering the facts, and preparing for formal action if things do not improve. And honestly, that whole process carries weight, especially when you are already trying to manage everything else the role is asking of you.

And that, at least, is the kind of conflict that makes sense to spend time on.

The other kind is smaller, but in some ways, it can be even more draining. Two people who cannot seem to work well together. Someone feels slighted in a meeting, and then the tension somehow lasts long after the meeting is over. One person quietly tells you what another person said about them, and suddenly you are in the middle of something that has very little to do with the actual work.

And in those moments, I often catch myself thinking, this is not what I signed up to lead. I did not take on this role to spend my mornings mediating disputes between capable adults who should, at least in theory, be able to work things out themselves. I used to feel almost embarrassed admitting that. I thought that if I found office politics draining, then maybe I was not cut out for leadership. But I do not believe that anymore.

The conflict nobody prepares you for

Most leadership writing prepares you for the big conflicts: a disagreement in the boardroom, a funder deciding to leave, or a crisis becoming public. And those situations are real, so they do deserve preparation.

But a lot of the conflict that takes up your time as a leader is much smaller. It is someone missing a deadline and having a reason for it again. Or it is two people having a personal disagreement that starts affecting a meeting that should be focused on the work. And sometimes, it is spending an hour trying to sort out a problem you did not create and would not have chosen to deal with.

I have fortunately never had to manage a conflict that became public or affected our reputation. But within a team, these kinds of issues can come up often. Some are important and need proper attention, while others are small but still take up more time and energy than they should.

None of it comes without a cost. When there is unresolved tension between colleagues, it does not stay between just those two people. It can affect how people feel about coming to work, how well they work together, and whether talented people start to feel like the environment is no longer worth the stress. And every hour a leader spends trying to resolve a personal dispute is an hour the team is not spending on the work it is there to do. You will not always see that cost on a balance sheet, but it is real.

The part people mistake for weakness

If there is one thing I have always known about myself, it is that I read people well. I pay close attention to emotions, both my own and those of the people around me, and I have learned to rely on that just as much as I rely on a strategy document or a KPI.

And for what it is worth, I am a Libra. So I have always been drawn to balance. I do not function well in unresolved conflict. It unsettles me in a way that most other pressures at work do not. For a long time, I thought that meant I was the wrong kind of leader for difficult moments. And I have seen people mistake it for weakness. They assume that because I do not enjoy confrontation, I cannot hold my ground.

But that has not been true. My discomfort with conflict has not stopped me from dealing with it. If anything, it has made me more aware of it early. I notice when a disagreement is starting to build, and I can often read the room before things become more difficult. I try to find a way forward that allows people to leave the conversation with their dignity intact. What people do not always see is how much thought goes into those conversations. Before I have one, I am usually thinking about what the person needs to hear, how I need to say it, and what outcome will actually resolve the issue instead of just delaying it.

That does not mean conflict comes naturally to me. It takes effort, and it can leave me drained, even when that does not show on the outside.

“My discomfort with conflict has not stopped me from dealing with it. If anything, it has made me more aware of it early.”

Is this a skill you are born with?

Some of it is probably temperament. But I think most of it is built over time.

I used to assume that leaders who handled conflict well were just naturally calm. Like it was something you either had or did not have. But I see it differently now. It is a skill you build by having difficult conversations, usually before you feel fully ready and often when you would rather not have to.

What has actually helped

The biggest shift for me has been learning to be intentional instead of reactive.

Being emotionally aware does not mean you have to act on the first emotion you feel. And for a long time, I did not fully understand the difference. When someone lets you down or you feel they have treated you unfairly, your first instinct can be to respond immediately.

I have had moments where I wanted to make a decision on the spot, like docking someone’s pay, before I had properly checked what was fair, lawful, or proportionate. Now, I pause. I check the relevant policy, consider the legal position where necessary, and sometimes use an AI tool to help me think through the situation before I make a decision I cannot take back. That pause between feeling something and acting on it has saved me from decisions I would probably have regretted.

The second thing that has helped is separating the person from the pattern. It is easy to get frustrated when someone keeps offering explanations. But it is more useful to look at the facts and ask a simple question: is this a one-off issue, or is it a pattern that needs a fair and documented process?

Once I stopped taking these things personally and started looking at the record, the difficult decisions became less about my frustration and more about what the situation actually showed. And when it comes to conflict between colleagues, I have had to accept that I cannot, and should not, resolve every disagreement myself. Some situations need a short, direct conversation. Others need me to say clearly that I will not mediate and that the people involved need to work it out themselves. Learning the difference has given me back time for the parts of the role that actually need my judgement.

Earlier in my career, I would carry these conversations home with me. I would replay what I said, question my tone, and wonder whether I handled it well enough. That has not disappeared completely. But now I am better at making the decision, communicating it clearly, and letting the matter close once it has been addressed.

For anyone in this seat who did not expect to be here

If you never imagined yourself being the person who settles disagreements among your own team, and there are still days when the role feels bigger than you, I do not think that means you are not suited to it.

I think it means you are growing into the role as you do it, without a manual. No one really gives you a guide for this part of leadership. You just deal with it often enough that, over time, it stops catching you off guard.

A few things I would tell someone starting out in this kind of role:

1. A meaningful part of your week will go towards conflict that no one warned you about. It helps to expect it and plan for it mentally.
2. Small disagreements between people can sometimes take more energy than the bigger and more visible problems. Do not be surprised when that happens.
3. Feeling uncomfortable with conflict does not mean you cannot handle it. Do not let other people, or your own doubts, convince you otherwise.
4. This is not a skill you either naturally have or do not have. You build it over time, usually under pressure and before you feel ready.
5. Look at the pattern, not only the explanation in front of you.
6. You cannot mediate every disagreement between people on your team. Trying to do that will exhaust you and will not always solve the problem.
7. Feeling drained by this work does not mean you are failing. It often just means you are taking the situation seriously.

None of this is why I do the work. I did not take on this role because I wanted to become good at managing conflict. Most days, I would still rather spend that energy on the mission itself. But I have made peace with the fact that helping a team stay focused on that mission is part of leading well. The conflict is not the job. But protecting the space for the real work to happen is.

— Hyeladzira James Mshelia is the Acting Chief Executive of Connected Development (CODE), where she provides strategic leadership and organisational oversight to ensure effective delivery of CODE’s mission of promoting social accountability, gender equality, and environmental justice across Africa. She leads strategic planning, guides programme implementation, and strengthens systems that advance transparency, learning, and impact.

Hyeladzira also drives high-level donor and partner engagement, representing CODE on national and international platforms to shape conversations on gender, climate, and governance. She fosters a culture of ethical leadership, collaboration, and accountability within the organisation.