Leadership coach and business strategist dedicated to helping women lead results with clarity, standards and zero guilt.
By Debbie Lawrence
Read Time: 7 minutes
Tuesday morning, Paula stopped by her assistant Ryan’s desk.
“Can you handle the Thompson file?” she asked.
Ryan nodded: “Sure!”
So Paula walked away feeling good, telling herself: Delegation! I’m getting better at this.
By Friday afternoon, the Thompson client called Paula directly and immediately she could tell they were frustrated: “We haven’t heard anything from your team. The proposal was supposed to be here Wednesday.”
Paula’s stomach dropped. She called Ryan immediately: “What’s going on with Thompson?”
“Oh, I sent them an email asking what they needed.”
“When?”
“Tuesday, after you asked me to handle it.”
“And?”
“They haven’t responded yet.”
Paula felt her blood pressure spike: “Did you follow up?”
Ryan said, “I was waiting to hear back first.”
“Did you look at the notes from our last call with them? Did you check their project folder? Did you draft the proposal we discussed in the team meeting?”
“I… didn’t know I was supposed to do all that. You just said ‘handle it.'”
Paula had said four words: “Handle the Thompson file.” Here’s what was revealed in our coaching session the next week:
In Paula’s mind, “handle it” meant:
In Ryan’s mind, “handle it” meant:
Four words. Completely different interpretations and an upset client.
Plus, Paula spent the weekend rebuilding the Thompson relationship and doing the work herself.
What Paula didn’t know yet was that “Handle it” isn’t delegation—it’s delegation theater.
Real delegation includes:
Four words won’t cut it. Ever.
But here’s what Paula also didn’t know: Even if she’d delegated perfectly on Tuesday, the real failure happened in the three days of silence that followed.
She handed it off and disappeared. There was no check-in scheduled. Paula just delegated and left it completely in Ryan’s hands, justified as “trusting Ryan will think like I do and hit it out of the park.”
When the deadline hit and nothing was ready, she blamed Ryan for not taking ownership.
She failed to see her own role in the failure.

By now, you’ve probably noticed that I am always looking for patterns. When I see one I ask the question: is this a pattern that we need to repeat or is this a pattern that needs to be repaired? When it comes to delegation, Paula’s pattern is one I see everywhere and it needs to be repaired.
Here’s what I’m talking about: I see leaders delegate, then disappear and call it trust. They hand something off, say nothing for weeks, then act shocked when the work isn’t done or it’s completely wrong.
The pattern looks like this:
Work gets delegated. Then there’s silence. Check-ins aren’t scheduled. There are no milestone reviews. There’s no “how’s it going?” conversations. It’s just delegation followed by radio silence, justified as “giving them space” or “trusting them to handle it.”
Then the deadline approaches and panic sets in. A last-minute check reveals the work isn’t done, is subpar, or it’s completely wrong. Scrambling begins and the leader either redoes it themselves or settles for subpar quality.
It gets labeled as “they didn’t follow through,” when it’s really delegation without follow-up.
Here are the reasons leaders tell me they don’t follow up. They tell themselves things like:
“If I check in, they’ll think I don’t trust them.” So silence becomes the strategy, and confidence gets confused with abandonment.
“I don’t want them to think I’m controlling.” The good girl rules strike again. “Be nice. Don’t be demanding. Don’t be the boss who hovers.” So checking in gets skipped entirely to avoid being labeled as difficult or demanding.
“They’re experienced so they don’t need oversight.” Experience doesn’t eliminate the need for accountability. It just changes what the check-ins look like.
“I want them to see me as empowering, not micromanaging.” You give them total freedom complete with no check-ins or structure and call it trust or empowerment. You hope they’ll see you as the cool boss who doesn’t micromanage and then wonder why nothing gets done or the work is subpar.
All of these sound reasonable in the moment.
All of them are variations on the same theme: confusion between follow-up and micromanagement.
In last week’s issue, I told you about Calvin, the experienced team member I avoided following up with because I didn’t want him to think I was micromanaging. That disaster taught me an important lesson about delegation and follow-up.
You’d think after that experience, I’d never make that mistake again.
Well, you’d be wrong.
Several months after the Calvin situation, I was leading a major cross-departmental project. There were multiple teams. It had high visibility and I was the lead, overseeing everything and coordinating all the moving pieces.
I delegated components to different people, including a fellow director—let’s call him Mark. Mark was a peer who was experienced and competent. I had a lot of respect for him.
So when I delegated his portion of the project, I made an assumption: He’s clear on what’s needed. It’s as good as done.
I handed it off with a brief conversation about expectations. He nodded and walked away projecting an air of confidence.
Then I did very little. I checked in during meetings to ask how things were going (a step up from Calvin) but in hindsight I saw how we only had surface conversations about the work he was doing. Besides, I didn’t want to come across as a micromanager. Sound familiar?
When Mark delivered his component, my stomach sank.
What he understood the responsibility to be wasn’t what was needed. The work was subpar, not because he was incompetent, but because we’d had a miscommunication I never caught.
I’d assumed it was all happening according to what we agreed to but without the follow-up, without checking in, the miscommunication went undetected until it was too late.
That meant more work for everybody. Once again I found myself scrambling to fix something under a deadline that was fast approaching. There was frustration all around.
I was engaged in magical thinking instead of being pragmatic and leading the way I should have been leading.
Here’s what I learned: Awareness doesn’t equal instant behaviour change.
I’d learned the lesson with Calvin but I still fell into the same pattern with Mark because the underlying belief hadn’t changed yet. I still thought following up with an experienced peer would signal I didn’t trust him.
It took multiple experiences—Calvin, then Mark, then others—before the lesson really stuck: Follow-up isn’t about trust. It’s about clarity. It’s about clarity-focused leadership.
Delegation without follow-up isn’t empowerment. It’s abandonment.

After the Calvin disaster, I had to learn the difference between follow-up and micromanaging.
Because here’s what a lot leaders get wrong: They think any check-in equals micromanagement.
It doesn’t.
Micromanaging is controlling HOW someone does the work.
Follow-up is verifying WHAT got done and WHEN.
Micromanaging looks like:
Follow-up looks like:
The difference:
Micromanaging says: “I don’t trust you to figure out how to do this.”
Follow-up says: “I trust you to do this, and I’m confirming we’re aligned on timing and quality.”
One is fear. One is leadership.
Many women who lead skip follow-up entirely because they’re terrified of being seen as micromanagers. They’ve been told their whole lives not to be “too controlling” or “too demanding.”
So they overcorrect. They delegate and disappear. They call it trust.
The team experiences it as confusion: “Does this actually matter? Is the deadline real? Does anyone care if I do this or not?”
Here’s the truth: Your team wants follow-up. They want to know the work matters. They want confirmation they’re on track. They want the safety of knowing someone’s paying attention.
What they don’t want is you hovering over HOW they do it.
Check the outcome. Trust the process.
After learning this lesson the hard way, I made myself a rule: If something matters enough that I’d be frustrated if it doesn’t happen, it matters enough to follow up on.
Now when I delegate, I schedule check-ins before I even hand off the work because I’ve learned that follow-up isn’t about trust. It’s about clarity.
Here’s my simple script for check-ins:
“Hey [Name], we’re meeting to check in on [specific work]. I want to see where you’re at, what’s working, what’s challenging, and whether you need anything from me. Bring whatever you’ve completed so far.”
That’s it. There’s no apology for checking in or “sorry to bother you.” I’m not offering some elaborate justification for why this meeting exists.
Just: Here’s what we’re reviewing. Here’s when. Come prepared.
Then at the check-in, I ask three questions:
Then I:
That’s follow-up. That’s also leadership.
It’s not micromanaging to verify work is happening. It’s not controlling to confirm quality and timing. It’s not lack of trust to schedule a review.
It’s doing your job.
The work you delegate is still your responsibility. Delegation doesn’t mean abdication. It means you’ve chosen someone else to execute while you remain accountable for the outcome.
Follow-up is how you stay accountable without doing the work yourself.
Right now, think of something you’ve already delegated.
Maybe it’s:
Pick one.
Now schedule a check-in. Not “sometime next week.” A specific day and time on both calendars.
That’s the check-in you’re scheduling this week.
Comment below and tell me: What have you delegated that you’ve been afraid to follow up on?
Name it. That’s your starting point.
I read and respond to every response.

leadership coach and business growth strategist dedicated to helping leaders get results with clarity, standards and zero guilt
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