The brunt of it

I recently stepped into a role I haven’t held in a long time: backup problem solver and portfolio overseer. I'm now the person clients escalate to when something feels off. The one who joins the call when tension is in the air, and everyone suddenly starts choosing their words more carefully. Yep, I'm that guy again.

Years ago, at Happy Cog, I did this full-time. I remember parts of it being genuinely fun. I like untangling things. At this point in my career, I have no problem walking into a messy situation, asking a few calm questions, and watching the room settle because someone is finally willing to call out what’s actually happening. Or at least investigate it.

As I was sitting on my first client kickoff call, where my role is to introduce myself and listen, I started to remember the weight of the role.

The low-grade hum of stress that comes from knowing there are 40 moving parts across a portfolio, and any one of them could wobble on a random Tuesday afternoon. The pressure of being the “adult in the room.” The emotional labor of absorbing frustration without letting it infect the rest of the people around you, because they're looking at you to be the stable one.

Then I started to remember how, when times were tough in that previous job, I had to be the one to break uncomfortable news about staff to clients. At one point, I think I had to make 3 calls in a month to each client to let them know about team changes, and how I was working on keeping things stable for them.

It can be brutal work. It requires the right mindset, behaviors, and routines to not let it consume you. Especially as a part-time leader!

So this time around, I’m being honest with myself about what actually works for me.

I don’t absorb. I assess.

Younger Brett would read a tense client email and feel it in his chest. I would respond quickly and try to smooth it over immediately. Sometimes I’d fix the wrong thing because I was reacting to tone instead of substance.

Now, I slow down.

When something escalates, my first move is almost boring: I gather facts. What was promised? What was delivered? What assumptions are colliding? Where is the real gap?

Most client “fires” are not actually fires. They’re misalignment plus emotion. If I can separate those two, everything gets easier. The trick for me is remembering that I am not the project. I’m observing the project. That little bit of distance keeps me useful.

I build routines so I don’t carry everything in my head

The stress in this role doesn’t come from dramatic blowups. It comes from surprises and ambiguity. Not knowing the clients. Not understanding their politics or will expectations. Not knowing perceptions. Or, internally, not knowing who’s nervous. Wondering if there’s something brewing that I haven’t seen yet.

If I don’t create structure, I will manufacture disorganization and panic in my own head. I do that really well. And that’s when I start waking up at 3:12 a.m. thinking about something that probably doesn't matter at all. So I design containment:

1. Clear expectations are always set about my role with clients and the team.
2. Clear escalation paths so everyone knows when to pull me in.
3. A weekly portfolio review where we surface risks early.
4. Team 1:1s to keep the pulse on individual needs and perspectives

I wouldn't call this a process or framework as much as it’s nervous system management. When I know there’s a rhythm, I don’t feel the need to hover.

I stay calm by lowering the temperature, not raising my authority

There’s a subtle temptation in this role to assert dominance when things get tense. To come in strong. To remind everyone who’s in charge. That never works for me — as a leader or a team member. Actually, who does that work for?

Anyway, what does work is the opposite: slower voice, fewer words, very clear framing.

“I hear that this feels urgent.”
“Let’s walk through what actually happened.”
“Here’s what we can control next.”

The thing I've learned as a PM is that calm is contagious, but so is panic. I get to choose which one I bring into the room. And if I’m honest, I often have to choose it deliberately. It’s not always automatic.

I make sure I’m not just the ‘uh oh’ guy

One of the dangers of overseeing a portfolio is that you only show up when something’s wrong. If I’m not careful, my name becomes synonymous with trouble, and that is not the energy I want.

So I intentionally show up when things are going well. I join calls just to listen. I send notes that say, “This was handled beautifully.” I ask questions that are curious, not corrective.

If the team trusts me, escalation feels collaborative. If they don’t, it feels like surveillance. And I’ve lived both versions. Only one is sustainable.

I put it down at the end of the day (or at least try)

This is the hardest part: when you oversee a portfolio, there is always something unresolved. Always a risk you’re tracking. Always something to watch and to be concerned about. The work is infinite.

What works for me is remembering that the system I built during the day is what protects me at night. If we have routines, visibility, and clear owners, I don’t need to mentally rehearse every possible failure.

I close the laptop. I write for PM Squad. I talk to my family and friends. I let myself be something other than the escalation path.

The projects will still be there in the morning.

Here is what I know with certainty: this role will keep me on my toes in a way that I haven't been for a while, and it will stress me out at times. Neither of these things are bad for me. My expectations are clear: there will be days when I feel like I’m juggling glass. There will be moments when I miss the simplicity of just coaching and consulting, of carrying zero project responsibility.

But there’s something satisfying about being the steady layer across a system. About noticing patterns before they explode, and helping teams stay connected when pressure starts to build.

And if I do it well, most people won’t even realize how many things almost went sideways. That’s kind of the point...that has always been the point of project management.

T L ; D R: When you’re the escalation path, calm is the job. Don’t absorb the chaos. Design structure. Protect your team relationships. Then close the laptop.