The Power of Telling on Yourself: Creating a Culture of Trust and Growth

“‘Pank Me!” A Lesson from Childhood

When I was a little girl, I had a habit of running to my “Papa,” bending over with my diapered bottom in the air, and saying, “‘Pank me!” I wasn’t looking for punishment. I was looking for relief. I had done something wrong, I knew it, and I wanted to make it right. Even as a toddler, I understood that the weight of guilt was heavier than any consequence. Owning my mistakes gave me back my peace.

As adults, we often resist this instinct. We try to hide our mistakes, justify them, or hope they go unnoticed. But the truth is, being the first to tell your story gives you power — it shapes the narrative, opens the door for growth, and builds trust in ways that secrecy never can.

When My Nurse Told on Herself

Recently one of my nurses came to me, clearly unsettled. She admitted she had been too short with a coworker from another team. She explained the situation, told me she had already apologized, but still felt the damage had been done. “I just wanted to let you know in case you hear anything,” she said.

Her honesty struck me. She wasn’t making excuses or waiting for someone else to report the issue. She took responsibility and made it easier for us to address the situation constructively. Instead of me hearing a complaint and having to go investigate, I got the story firsthand, from someone who was already working to make it right.

Proverbs 18:17 says:

“The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him.”

When we take control of our own narrative, when we tell on ourselves, we ensure our story is heard in the right context.

Mistakes Happen. What Happens Next Matters More.

I once had a CNA who, in a moment of frustration, said angry, threatening words to a coworker from another team. It was serious enough that most leaders would have immediately fired her. But instead, we had a conversation. She admitted her mistake. We worked through it, I wrote her up, and she committed to making changes.

Over the next year, she worked hard to improve. Eventually, she texted me:

“Thank you for your patience with me over the last year. I didn’t deserve to stay, but you gave me a chance to really work on myself, and I’m better for it.”

People are messy, but they’re beautiful! She knew she had been wrong. But she chose to be honest and take responsibility, and she was given the opportunity to grow.

The Tale of Two Employees: Pride vs. Ownership

Not every situation ends with growth. I once had two employees who got tangled up in a documentation issue. Mostly, they seemed equally responsible, equally in the wrong, but after sitting down with them, the differences became clear.

One was overwhelmed by a competence issue — he was a smart guy, but he hadn’t been given adequate training and had misunderstood warning signs and put patients at risk. He broke down in tears when he realized the weight of his mistake. Instead of covering it up, he admitted he needed help. We made a plan, he retook parts of his training, and within weeks, he improved dramatically. He later became one of my most reliable team members — the kind of guy I knew I could call in a crisis.

The other employee? He wouldn’t admit any wrongdoing. He insisted he was doing his job just fine, blamed others, and even claimed that he “prayed for uneventful shifts” so that he wouldn’t have to document anything. Eventually, he was caught sleeping through critical situations and fired. Even then, he claimed he had done nothing wrong.

The difference? One was willing to be honest, admit mistakes, and improve. The other clung to pride — and it cost him his job.

Why Telling on Yourself Matters

I want my team to feel safe enough to come to me when something goes wrong. If they’ve made a mistake, we can likely navigate the best outcome together far better than they could alone. (And let’s be honest, someone will tell on them anyway!) It’s always better to come forward than to be caught.

But telling on yourself isn’t just about mistakes. It’s about owning our attitudes, our actions, and our impact on others. It’s about prioritizing growth over pride. It’s about building a culture where honesty isn’t punished — it’s respected.

As leaders, we have a responsibility to create an environment where our teams trust us enough to be honest. If people are too afraid of punishment or humiliation to come forward, we don’t have a culture of accountability — we have a culture of fear.

If you’re a leader, make room for these conversations. Show your team that owning mistakes leads to solutions, not shame.

And if you’re struggling with whether to come forward about something, consider this: The people who grow the most are the ones who stop hiding, step up, and say, “Here’s what happened, how do we fix it?”

That’s the kind of team I want to build. The kind of leader I want to be.