Every morning when I walk into my gym, I act a little like my dog, Benny.

Not the rolling-on-his-back part—but the part of him that has to say hi to every single person he sees. I’m not looking for belly rubs, just a genuine smile, a quick joke, and maybe a fist bump.

That’s the Initiating communicator in me. I thrive on connection. I love the energy of conversation—the spark that makes people feel seen.

But watch me coach someone on their movement, and everything changes.

My demeanor shifts. My eyes track every rep with surgical precision. My brain flips through the mental Rolodex of cues I've built over years of coaching.

In that moment, I'm not social—I'm surgical. That’s the Analytical communicator showing up.

So, yeah—I walk into work like a golden retriever and coach like a scientist. Both are me.

The Trap of the Label

My primary style, confirmed by a Communication Styles assessment for my Toastmasters group, is Initiating, with Analytical as my secondary.

Translation? I’m both the guy starting the conversation at the party and the guy overanalyzing everything I said and did later that night.

Here’s where it gets tricky: these styles often feel like boxes. You’re either one or the other. Worse, the assumption is that if you’re one, you’ll struggle to communicate with the other.

But humans aren't boxes. We're full-spectrum—dynamic, layered, and sometimes beautifully contradictory. When we reduce communication to a simple label, we risk losing our special complexity.

For a long time, I thought I had to choose: Be the engaging one or the technical one? The connector or the planner?

Eventually, I realized something freeing—I don’t have to pick sides.

Embracing the Power of "AND"

I can be Initiating and Analytical. That simple three-letter word became my bridge between energy and precision.

In his book Range, David Epstein argues that generalists often thrive in a world that rewards specialists. The most successful people, he says, are those who move fluidly between ideas—the ones who see connections others miss.

That's what embracing the "AND" does for you. It gives you range—the ability to zoom in and out, to connect deeply and think critically, to engage people and evaluate progress.

When I stopped fighting my duality and started embracing it, everything clicked. I could read the room and mold my shape to the situation at hand while staying authentically myself.

Curiosity Over Certainty

Once I accepted my own "AND," I started noticing it in others.

• The quiet team member I thought was disengaged? They were likely just processing deeply.

• The loud client who seems to dominate the gym? That's simply their way of seeking connection.

When I lead with curiosity instead of certainty, I uncover people’s best selves. It starts by asking questions.

Questions build trust. Trust builds safety. And safety opens the door for genuine connection.

My goal isn't to be perfectly understood. It’s to make others feel seen, heard, and valued—for their AND.

I’m an Initiating communicator and an Analytical one. But I’m also a husband and a dad. A coach and a competitor. A talker and a thinker.

I bet you have plenty of "AND's" in your own life.

The next time someone tries to define you—or you catch yourself labeling someone else—remember this:

The world doesn’t need more labels. It needs more listeners. More curiosity. More AND.

Reflection Prompt

What’s your "AND"? What two traits, strengths, or sides of yourself have you tried to keep separate—that might actually make you stronger together?