How we turned feedback into a conversation

Giving feedback in a product or engineering team can feel… unnatural. Everyone agrees it’s important, but in practice, it’s often awkward, delayed, or too polite to be useful.

Over the years, I’ve seen many formats - HR-led surveys, self-reflection forms, “how do you feel about this?” 1:1s. They all have good intentions. But rarely do they create the kind of conversations that actually change how people work together.

So about five years ago, I built something different. Not from a book or a framework, but out of a simple need: I wanted my team to talk to each other - honestly, calmly, and with purpose.

How the cycle works

Every year, everyone in the team gives and receives feedback from every other teammate. It sounds formal, but it’s not. It’s structured, yes - but deeply personal in how it unfolds.

Each person gets a Google Form to collect input. There’s a base template, but everyone can modify it - rephrase questions, add new ones, or shift the focus entirely.

Some keep it general:

“What’s one thing I could do differently that would make collaboration smoother?”

Others go deep:

“What’s something I do that has a bigger impact on others than I realize?”

That mix of simple and thoughtful questions sets a tone of curiosity rather than judgment.

Then comes the rotation. Every two weeks, two teammates meet and exchange their answers. Over time, everyone talks to everyone. The rhythm keeps things light enough to be manageable, but consistent enough to matter.

And finally - the most important part - the conversation. The written answers are just the start. The real learning happens when people sit down together, one-on-one.

Those conversations almost never stay short. They start stiff, maybe even awkward, but once the first question is out of the way, curiosity takes over. An hour later, people are still talking - comparing perspectives, connecting dots, and digging into things they’ve never said aloud before.

What I learned from my own feedback

Each year, I go through the same process. And every year, the feedback shapes me in ways I didn’t expect.

“You stay calm under stress and keep the team grounded.” “You create space for honesty - people feel safe being direct.” “Sometimes things feel a bit rushed - slowing down could help the team align better.” “Documentation and clarity of goals could be stronger.”

It’s not always easy to read. But it’s always true.

What stood out most this year was how people don’t just describe what I do - they describe how it feels to work with me. That’s where the real insight hides.

I learned that my calmness - which I thought was reassuring - can sometimes come across as distant. And that my drive to move fast, while efficient, can make others feel like I’ve already moved on before they’ve caught up.

It’s a humbling realization. But I’ve learned that awareness, not comfort, is what builds better leadership.

A moment that stayed with me

One feedback round, a few years back, left a lasting mark.

At the time, I was still quite new to product management. I worked closely with an exceptionally talented developer - the kind of person who could see both code and product ten steps ahead.

I admired him deeply, but after almost every work conversation, I left questioning if I was doing enough. Like I still had more to prove, more to learn.

When our feedback session came - right before the Christmas break - I was ready for the toughest comments of the year. And yes, there were points for improvement. But then he said something I’ll never forget:

“You are the best PM I’ve ever worked with - because you listen to developers and try to find balance between technical and business needs.”

That sentence carried me through the following years. It changed how I understood my role. He wasn’t disappointed - he was focused. And I wasn’t failing - I was growing alongside him.

Why this process works

After five years, I’ve seen what makes this feedback cycle powerful.

It builds ownership. People shape their own questions and decide what kind of input they want. That ownership makes the process feel supportive, not forced.

It builds awareness. When feedback flows both ways, people begin to notice how their communication affects others. Over time, there’s less guesswork, less defensiveness - and more understanding.

And it builds connection. When two tech leads sit down to discuss how they collaborate, they often discover shared frustrations and new respect for each other’s challenges. No team-building event could do that.

The real-world impact

Over time, the results became visible - not in metrics dashboards, but in how we worked. Planning sessions became faster. Misunderstandings fewer. Decision-making smoother. People anticipated each other’s thinking instead of defending their own.

It didn’t just make us nicer colleagues. It made us more effective. And that’s the kind of progress you can feel, even if it doesn’t fit neatly into KPIs.

And the best part?

The conversations didn’t stop once the cycle ended. After you’ve had one truly open feedback talk with someone, something shifts - it becomes easier to share smaller bits of feedback in everyday moments. A quick comment in a meeting, a small thank-you after a sprint - these things start to happen naturally, without structure.

That’s when you know the process has worked: when feedback stops being an event and becomes part of how you talk every day.

Scaling with intent

In eAgronom - our product team today is more than 20 people - but this process only happens within smaller, closely connected teams. It’s not designed for organization-wide feedback. It’s for people who actually work together day-to-day, who understand each other’s roles deeply enough to give feedback that matters.

That intimacy is what makes it work. Beyond that scale, the feedback stops being personal and turns into commentary - and that’s not what this process is for.

Still uncomfortable

Even after all these years, I still feel uneasy before every feedback conversation. Each time I restart the cycle, I catch myself thinking, “Do we really need to do this again?”

And every time, I push past that hesitation. Because once the first conversations start, I’m reminded why it matters. It clears the air. It builds empathy. It resets our shared focus.

The discomfort never disappears - it just becomes part of how we grow.

Final thoughts

In the end, it’s not about the process at all. It’s about the people who choose to show up honestly - and keep doing it, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Because teams don’t grow from frameworks or rituals alone. They grow from the moments when people feel safe enough to be real - and curious enough to keep improving together.