Ep. 83: Stop Trying to Fix Athletes: Dr. Kate Bennett on Love, Psychological Safety, and Mental Performance
There are certain words we tend to avoid in environments that are over-indexed on performance, because they feel too soft, too sentimental, or too hard to measure. Love is probably near the top of that list. In many corners of the sport landscape, we are much more comfortable talking about toughness, discipline, preparation, resilience, confidence, and execution. Those words feel familiar in a locker room, on a practice field, or inside a performance meeting. Love, on the other hand, can make people shift in their seats.
My conversation with sport psychologist Kate Bennett really blows apart the belief that love doesn’t have a place in sport, and that it certainly isn’t “soft”. Love in a performance environment is not about being nice, avoiding hard conversations, or protecting people from challenge. It is about connection, mattering, accountability, courage, and the willingness to be present with another person in the places where they are most vulnerable. It is one of the core conditions that allows athletes to take risks, recover from failure, and pursue excellence without constantly wondering whether their worth is on the line.
Kate’s work sits at the intersection of athlete well-being, connection, and high performance. As the founder of Full Send Consulting, she works with athletes, teams, and coaches to build cultures where people feel seen, valued, and able to show up more fully. Her approach is influenced by Jerry Lynch’s Way of Champions and Brené Brown’s research on shame, scarcity, vulnerability, and belonging. Throughout our conversation, what stood out to me was how clearly Kate connects the deeply human parts of sport to the outcomes we usually care about most.
Connection Is Not a Nice-to-Have
One of the biggest themes in this episode is that connection and mattering are not optional extras; they are performance drivers. When athletes feel that they matter to the group, that they are seen as whole people, and that they are loved beyond their stat line, they are more likely to play freely. They can take wiser risks because failure does not feel like exile. They can communicate more honestly because the relationship is strong enough to hold tension.
So much of performance depends on what an athlete is willing to risk, yet perfectionism narrows the field of possibility because it teaches athletes that mistakes are dangerous and that approval is conditional. Excellence, by contrast, requires risk-taking, experimentation, learning, and the ability to stay connected after something goes wrong. If an athlete believes that one mistake will cost them belonging, they will often choose safety over growth.
Kate framed this beautifully through the language of being relevant, important, and valued. Athletes need to know their role on a tactical level, and they need to know that their presence matters to the team. That does not mean every athlete gets constant praise or avoids accountability. It means the relationship underneath the accountability is strong enough that challenge can be received as care rather than rejection.
Listening Without Fixing
Kate brought forward the power of listening without immediately trying to fix. As coaches, psychologists, practitioners, and leaders, many of us are trained to solve problems. An athlete brings us something hard, and we want to offer a tool, a strategy, a reframe, or a plan. That instinct often comes from a good place. We want to help, and we want the person in front of us to feel better.
But Kate described how transformational it can be when we slow down and offer deep, nonjudgmental presence before we move into problem-solving. When someone feels truly seen and heard, something begins to shift. They are no longer alone with the experience, and they are no longer reduced to a problem that needs to be corrected. That kind of presence can create its own momentum for change.
I have felt this tension in my own work. There is a part of me that wants to provide concrete value quickly, especially when someone is in distress or when I feel the pressure to be useful. But Kate’s reminder is that sometimes presence is what’s most useful. Even deeper, when we pause the reflex to fix what someone else is bringing forward, there’s a subtle and powerful statement being made. “Whatever you’re bringing forward is safe and accepted here”. When you start there, growth happens from a place of desire instead of avoidance.
From Perfectionism to Excellence
Let’s talk about the distinction between perfectionism and excellence. Perfectionism often masquerades as high standards, but underneath it there is usually fear. Fear of rejection, fear of disconnection, fear of not being enough, fear that a mistake will confirm something shameful. In that state, performance becomes tight, rigid, and self-protective.
Excellence has a different quality. Excellence still cares deeply about preparation, standards, growth, and results. But it is not built on the belief that worth must be earned through flawless execution. When athletes feel connected and valued, they are more willing to stretch because their identity is not completely dependent on the outcome. They can pursue high standards from a place of courage rather than scarcity.
This is where Brené Brown’s work on shame and vulnerability becomes highly relevant to sport. Shame thrives in secrecy, silence, and judgment. If an athlete’s inner world is dominated by the fear that they will be exposed as not good enough, they are less likely to take the kinds of risks that lead to growth. Vulnerability, when held in a safe relational container, allows athletes to name what is real, ask for support, and step toward meaningful challenge with more freedom.
Love Is Hard Work Made Visible
One of the things I appreciated most about Kate’s perspective is that she does not describe love as something passive or sentimental. Love in a team environment is active. It looks like showing up for each other, challenging each other, holding one another to standards, and being willing to go into hard areas together. It is not simply saying kind things or creating a pleasant atmosphere.
High-performance cultures can dismiss love if they equate it with softness, but the kind of love Kate is describing actually demands courage. It asks teammates to have honest conversations. It asks coaches to address what is happening beneath the surface. It asks leaders to care enough to challenge and challenge in a way that preserves dignity.
In this sense, love and accountability are not opposites, they actually belong together. Accountability without love can become harsh, transactional, or fear-based. Love without accountability can become vague and permissive. The strongest teams find a way to hold both: you matter here, and because you matter, we are going to help each other become better.
Petting the Dragon
Kate used the image of “petting the dragon” to talk about addressing hard things before they become unmanageable. I love that image because most teams have dragons in the room. There may be unspoken conflict, resentment, insecurity, fear, role confusion, or disappointment. Everyone can feel it, but no one wants to name it because naming it might make things uncomfortable.
The problem is that avoidance rarely makes the dragon smaller. When teams do not address hard things early, the tension often shows up in indirect ways: passive-aggressive comments, cliques, disengagement, mistrust, or performance breakdowns under pressure. Leaders may think they are preserving harmony by avoiding conflict, but often they are just delaying a more difficult conversation. Psychological safety does not mean there is no tension. It means the team has enough trust to work with tension directly.
This is one of the places where great coaches and practitioners do some of their most important work. They create a container where hard things can be named without people being shamed. They help the group stay present long enough to process discomfort rather than rush past it. That requires patience, steadiness, and a willingness to sit in the messy middle, where there may not be an immediate fix.
The Leader as Container
Coaches, psychologists, and facilitators deliver content and run activities, and they are shaping the emotional and relational space in which people are trying to grow. That space has to be safe enough for honesty and strong enough to hold tension.
This is why team-building activities alone are not enough. Icebreakers and bonding exercises can be useful, but they are not the same as genuine connection. Real cohesion comes from meaningful relationships, shared vulnerability, honest processing, and the repeated experience of being able to move through discomfort together. The activity may open a door, but the processing is where the real work often happens.
Kate’s point here connects to something I think about often in mental performance work. Sometimes the most important thing a leader does is hold space. That means resisting the urge to rush in with answers, tolerating silence, asking better questions, and trusting that something important may emerge if people are given enough safety and time.
Technology and the Erosion of Connection
We also talked about how difficult connection can be in a world dominated by phones, social media, and constant stimulation. Teams may spend more time physically together than ever, while still missing the deeper forms of attention that create belonging. Athletes may sit in the same room and never actually make contact because everyone is pulled into a screen. The result is not just distraction; it is disconnection.
This matters because connection often grows in the in-between moments. It happens before practice, after meetings, during meals, in downtime, and in the small exchanges that help people feel known. When every quiet moment is filled by a device, teams lose opportunities to build the relational fabric that supports performance under pressure. Technology is not inherently bad, but it does mean connection has to become more intentional.
For coaches and leaders, we may need to design environments that protect moments of real human contact. That could mean creating phone-free spaces, building in reflective conversations, or simply modeling presence ourselves. If we want athletes to feel seen, we have to create conditions where seeing each other is actually possible.
Gratitude as a Practice of Mattering
Kate offered some simple marching orders near the end of our conversation. One of them was to intentionally express gratitude by way of specific appreciation that helps someone feel seen for how they show up. That might mean texting one person each day with a genuine note of gratitude or making sure one athlete hears something specific about their presence, effort, courage, or character.
Small practices like this can shape culture when they are done consistently. Recognition tells people what matters. If we only recognize outcomes, athletes learn that their value is tied to production. If we recognize courage, care, communication, resilience, generosity, and presence, we expand the definition of what the team values.
Belonging is built through repeated moments, not usually one big speech that makes people feel they matter. It is the accumulation of small signals: I see you, I value you, I notice how you are showing up, and your presence here matters. Over time, those signals become the culture.
Actionable Takeaways for Coaches, Practitioners, and Performers
If you want to apply this conversation in your own environment, I would start with three practices:
Practice listening without fixing. The next time an athlete, client, teammate, or colleague brings you something difficult, pause before offering advice. Ask a question, reflect what you heard, and give them the experience of being fully received. You can still problem-solve later, but try letting presence come first.
Make mattering visible. Choose one person each day and offer specific appreciation for who they are or how they showed up, not just what they produced. That could be a text, a comment after practice, or a moment in a team meeting. The goal is to reinforce belonging through concrete, repeated signals. Over time, this helps people feel valued beyond performance outcomes.
Pet the dragon early. If there is tension, conflict, or an unspoken issue in your team or relationship, look for a safe and skillful way to name it before it grows. This means building enough trust that hard things can be addressed with care. Teams that learn to process discomfort together become more resilient, more connected, and more capable under pressure.
Closing Reflection
My conversation with Kate left me thinking about how often we underestimate the performance power of being fully human with one another. We talk about confidence, resilience, discipline, and focus, and all of those things matter. But underneath them is a deeper question: does this person feel safe enough, valued enough, and connected enough to bring their full self to the work?
When the answer is yes, performance changes. Athletes can risk more, recover faster, communicate more honestly, and pursue excellence without being trapped by perfectionism. Coaches can challenge without dehumanizing. Teams can move through conflict instead of avoiding it. The environment becomes one where people are not simply trying to prove they belong; they are supported enough to grow.
That is why love belongs in the performance conversation as a disciplined practice of presence, courage, accountability, and care. It is hard work made visible. And when we are willing to do that work, we create the conditions for people to become not only better performers, but more whole human beings.
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