The awkward conversation nobody trains you for.

Peter is good at his job. Reliable, well liked, never misses a deadline.

Peter also has a body odour problem. Everyone on the floor knows it. Two people have quietly asked to move desks. One has mentioned it to you twice, with increasing urgency. And you, his manager, have spent three weeks hoping it will somehow resolve itself.

It will not.

I believe every difficult conversation is awkward to some degree. Otherwise it would just be a conversation. But there is a category of conversation that is almost pure awkwardness: body odour, bad breath, strong food smells, what someone wears to work. Leaders who can comfortably deliver hard performance feedback will avoid these for months.

Why these conversations feel so much harder

Two things make them different.

They are subjective. What counts as a strong smell? What is "appropriate" attire? There is rarely a timestamp or a document to point to, the way there is with a missed deadline. That makes the leader unsure of their footing before they begin.

They are personal. It is about someone's body, what they put on it, or what they put in it. Feedback on a report is feedback on work. Feedback on hygiene feels like feedback on the person. So the reaction is often more emotional and more defensive, and leaders, anticipating that, wait.

Meanwhile the cost compounds. Peter's colleagues are uncomfortable. Their trust in you erodes a little each week you do nothing. And Peter himself is the last to know something everyone else has been discussing behind his back. That is not kindness. It is avoidance dressed up as kindness.

Do your homework first

Before you say a word, check three things.

• Policy. What does your organization's dress code or workplace conduct policy actually say? Know it before you reference it.
• HR. Talk to them first. They may have handled this before, and they will know what support is available.
• What else might be going on. Odour can have a medical cause. Attire can be tied to religion or culture. You are not there to diagnose. But walking in curious rather than certain protects Peter's dignity, and protects you.

Then map the conversation. My essay on three tools for giving effective feedback goes deeper on preparing for reactions. For awkward conversations, plan for at least these three:

1. Denial. "I don't smell. You don't know what you're talking about."
2. Genuine surprise. "Oh no. Really? I had no idea."
3. Exit. Tears, anger, or a sudden need to leave the room.

For each one, decide in advance what you will say next. For denial, return to what has been observed and its impact, without arguing the point. For surprise, move gently to what happens now. For an exit, end with care and reschedule. The conversation is not over just because this attempt was.

Open with the truth

The single most useful opening line I know for this kind of conversation is also the simplest:

"This is going to be an awkward conversation."

It does four things at once. It lets Peter brace himself. It gives you permission not to be perfect. It skips the small talk that only makes the turn more jarring. And it stops you from the classic mistake of a compliment sandwich ("We love your work, how was your weekend, so, about the smell…"), which Peter will replay in his head for days.

Then say it plainly. ASBI gives you the structure:

• Ask for the conversation: "Can I talk to you about something sensitive?"
• Situation: "Over the past few weeks, in the office…"
• Behaviour: "…there's been a noticeable body odour."
• Impact: "It's affecting how comfortable people are working near you, and I didn't want you to be the last to know."

Then stop talking. The silence is uncomfortable. Let it be. Peter needs a moment to take it in, and anything you add will dilute the message or make it worse.

(ASBI comes from Giving Feedback to Subordinates by Dana McDonald-Mann and Raoul J. Buron, published by the Center for Creative Leadership. The "Ask" is the step that makes the rest land.)

If Peter reacts with strong emotion, stop delivering and start de-escalating. My LEETER model is built for exactly that moment:

• Listen. Let him react. Don't fill the space.
• Echo. Say back what you heard, so he knows it landed.
• Empathize. Acknowledge how uncomfortable this is, without backing away from the message.
• Thank. Thank him for hearing you out. It keeps the door open.
• Evaluate. Work out together what needs to happen next, and what support might help.
• Resolve. Confirm the next steps before he leaves the room.

Follow up, because one conversation rarely does it

Awkward conversations almost never resolve in a single meeting. Check in a week later. Has anything changed? If not, why not? Is there support Peter needs that he did not feel able to ask for the first time?

A second or third conversation is not a failure. It is how behaviour change actually works.

I learned this with Bill, back when this story was possible. One afternoon I caught him watching a portable DVD player, propped up behind a file folder on his desk. When I raised it, he had an answer ready: the CD drive in his tower PC was broken, so he was using the DVD player to listen to music. (Yes, this story is that old.)

That is the moment these conversations go sideways. Your instinct is to argue the facts. Was it a movie? Was it music? Does it matter? You can lose twenty minutes there and walk out with nothing.

What works is naming what you saw and what it costs, without needing the other person to agree on the details. A screen hidden behind a folder during work hours tells the team something, whatever was playing on it. That is the conversation worth having. You don't need to win the facts. You need to name the impact.

The kindest version is the clear one

The instinct to avoid these conversations comes from a good place. Nobody wants to embarrass a colleague. But the longer you wait, the more people know, and the more humiliating it becomes when Peter finally finds out.

Clear is kind. Prepared is kind. Following up is kind. Hoping it goes away on its own is not.

Awkward conversations do not get easier by waiting. They get easier with planning, and with practice.