Someone told me recently that I can sometimes come across as harsh. Not wrong or unclear. Just harsh. The comment came from someone in the Midwest, which probably explains the gap more than anything else.
What “harsh” actually means
On the East Coast, direct communication is normal. You say what you mean, you get to the point, and you move on. If something doesn’t work, you say it.
“This won’t work.”
That’s the message. No setup, no soft landing.
In the Midwest, that same idea gets rewritten with more care around delivery. It turns into something like, “I think this might need a few adjustments.” Same meaning, but it takes a longer path to get there.
On the West Coast, it softens even more. You hear things like, “That’s interesting,” which can mean anything from disagreement to a quiet no. The message is still there; it’s just buried under the tone.
So when I say something directly, it stands out. Not because it’s wrong, but because it skips the social lubricant everyone else is using.
The part people miss
On the East Coast, people actually appreciate that style. I’ve had clients tell me that directly over the years. They don’t want fluff or vague feedback. They want to know what’s wrong, what needs to change, and what it’s going to take to fix it.
That’s what they’re paying for.
I spent years freelancing before this job, and this was never an issue. If anything, it was one of the reasons clients kept coming back. It made things faster, clearer, and easier to execute. I’ve always viewed clarity as a form of respect. I value your time enough not to waste it with three paragraphs of preamble.
The Sarcasm Variable
I’m also sarcastic, which doesn’t help.
Sarcasm doesn’t land the same anymore, especially in workplace communication. Mine is dry enough that people sometimes can’t tell if I’m joking or serious. My mother used to joke about that, and if your own mother can’t always tell, that probably says something.
In the right setting, sarcasm signals familiarity. But outside of that, it’s a gamble. A simple line like: “Yeah, that’s a great idea.” can be taken at face value, read as passive-aggressive, or misunderstood entirely. Once you move that into written communication like Teams or email, it gets worse. There’s no tone or timing to guide it, so I usually refrain from it in favor of being direct and concise.
Why I communicate this way
This isn’t random. It lines up with how I think. I’m an INTJ, which explains a lot: efficiency, directness, logic, and a low tolerance for unnecessary process. My CliftonStrengths also lean heavily toward being analytical and results-focused.
It’s not a license to be difficult; it’s just a preference for high-signal, low-noise communication. I care about whether something is correct and whether it gets done. That doesn’t leave much room for extra language.
The “Wearing a Suit” Adjustment
Now I’m in an environment where that style doesn’t land the same way. So I’ve started adjusting.
I recently started using Microsoft Copilot to clean up messages. I’ll write something the way I normally would, then let the AI soften the tone and remove the edge. The result is a version of my thoughts “wearing a suit”—it’s professional, presentable, and safe, but it feels like a filtered version of my actual personality. No sarcasm. Less edge. More buffer.
The part I don’t like
Rewriting simple messages to make sure they land correctly slows everything down. It feels unnecessary when the original message was already clear. More than that, it feels like I’m being told to filter out parts of my personality just to fit the environment. That feels fake to me, and I’ve never been good at pretending to be something I’m not.
I’ve been reading Embrace the Suck, and one idea that stands out is that some friction is just part of the environment. You either deal with it, or you don’t.
Where I’m at
I can adjust, and for now, I am. But the bigger question is how long I want to keep doing it. Not being yourself just to accommodate other people’s sensitivities takes a toll. If the only alternative is acting “suit-and-tie” all day, that’s eventually going to wear on anyone.
This isn’t about right or wrong. It’s about fit.
In one environment, direct communication is efficient and appreciated. In another, it’s a liability. For now, I’m wondering if East Coast INTJs need to come with a warning label when working outside our natural habitat… 😆
What about you? Have you ever felt like you had to outsource your personality to a “translation layer” just to get through the workday? Does clarity feel like a gift to you, or does it feel like a lack of empathy?
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