"Wow, You’re Intense”: A Love Letter to My Clarity-Induced Corporate Earthquakes
- kira Bennett
- Dec 5, 2025
- 5 min read
I’ve learned that in business, there are three kinds of people: the ones who thrive on momentum, the ones who survive on chaos, and the ones who recoil at the sight of a clear, well-defined plan the way a vampire recoils from sunlight.
Guess which ones tell me, “Wow, you’re intense”?
Yep. The vampires. Or, to be more accurate… the corporate dinosaurs. And believe me, they are everywhere—roaming conference rooms, stomping around email threads, clicking through PowerPoints like they’re foraging for prehistoric berries.
But let’s get something straight: When someone says, “You’re intense,” they are not commenting on your personality. They are commenting on their discomfort.
Intensity, in their world, is just clarity; they don’t know how to metabolise it.

Clarity Is My Love Language, Apparently
Some people show affection with gifts. Others with words. I show affection by being crystal clear about what needs to get done, by whom, by when, and why.
I know—scandalous.
But the moment I outline direction, define expectations, or—heaven forbid—introduce accountability, suddenly I’ve transformed into a mythical creature: The Terrifying Beast of Business Efficiency.
They squint, they sweat, they shift in their ergonomic chairs, and then they whisper the sacred phrase:
“Wow… you’re intense.”
Yes. Yes, I am because someone around here needs to know what planet we’re on.
For goodness' sake - time to start being proactive.
Implement the change required to get you at least into this century.
Meanwhile, the Dinosaurs Roar in Confusion
You know who isn’t intimidated by clarity? People who actually like progress.
But the dinosaurs? Oh, they struggle. Modern workflows are to them what smartphones are to prehistoric lizards.
You show them a streamlined process, and they stare at it like it’s fire.
You mention automation, and they look around the room to see if they’re being filmed for a prank show.
You propose a more efficient system, and they flinch as you’ve just suggested replacing their beloved flip phone.
Cultural changes and social impacts - aggghhhhh and internal scream and pure panic.
Mental health, wellbeing, flexibility, disability and inclusion, moral and ethical working - nope, all buzz words that have never even come into their dictionary.
All involves change, and absolutely nope- this is how we have always done it, so why do they have to move with the times?
They’ve been roaming the earth in the same direction for decades. Your clarity—your dastardly, disruptive clarity—threatens that comfortable, twig-gnawing existence.
Back to shift-blaming - "wow, you're intense", and I'll go back to hiding and not pay attention. Sorry, but in this love letter you'll see that 1) I'll take that as a compliment and 2) ignoring me doesn't work!
The Corporate Sloth (Ancient Edition)
If the dinosaurs weren’t entertaining enough, let me introduce another beloved species in the corporate wild: The Ancient Business Sloth.
Not a real sloth—don’t worry, real sloths are adorable. I mean the metaphorical kind: the ones who move at a pace so slow it feels like time pauses to check on them.
The kind that move so backwards that they are constantly at the vet for some sort of checkup and life monitoring.
The competency is on par with the slow arse sloth who has absolutely no idea, so clings to the tree branch of the tree with a TPO and hopes that this is essentially enough.
These are the people who respond to emails from last quarter. Who needs “a few more weeks” to review the three-slide deck you sent?
Who treat every simple decision like a high-stakes diplomatic treaty.
And when you show up with a clear, directional approach, they freeze.
They blink.
They panic. Because nothing terrifies a slow-moving, old-school operator more than someone who actually knows where things are going.
“Wow, you’re intense,” they say, clutching their ancient workflow like a security blanket.
No, friend. I’m not intense. You’re just running on 1997 office energy, and I’m operating in 2025.
And trust that paragraph is not discriminating or relating to age specifics, in fact, I know many 50 - 60 year olds who are more with the quick, snappy way of working because this is what they also want in the work environment.
They are also bored with waiting for decisions and the execution of plans.
It bottlenecks the process and just makes us look stupid when the sloth holds up the process.
Intensity = Direction + Accountability
Let’s decode the sentence, shall we?
When someone says:
“You’re intense.”
What they actually mean is:
“You’re asking questions I don’t want to answer.”
“You’re making decisions I don’t know how to make.”
“You’re moving at a speed I’m not used to.”
“You’re exposing the inefficiencies I’ve been hiding behind.”
“You’re holding a mirror up to the way things have always been done, and I don’t know what to do with that reflection.”
Intensity is not aggression. It is not harshness. It is not pressure.
It is directed with purpose.
It is clear with outcomes attached. It is the willingness to say, “We can do better,” while others are busy writing another meeting agenda for the meeting about the meeting.
The Modern Way Is Not Coming—It’s Already Here
Here’s the thing, the dinosaurs haven’t realised yet:
We are already in the era of agile thinking, lean decision-making, and transparency as a default—not a luxury.
You cannot hide behind outdated processes forever. You cannot duct-tape your way through innovation. You cannot pretend velocity is optional while everyone else is flying past you.
The modern world demands clarity.
Direction.
Focus.
Execution.
If that looks like intensity, then bring on the intensity alarms.
No more 20-hour meetings that drone on and on and on about the past - come on, please, I don't have time or capacity.
Direction.
Focus.
Execution.
My Intensity Isn’t the Problem — Your Incompatibility Is
When the old-school, slow-moving, stuck-in-their-ways crowd recoils at clarity, it’s not because you’re wrong.
It’s because they feel the tectonic shift under their feet. They feel the old structures cracking. They feel the future arriving like a meteor—bright, fast, unstoppable.
They’re not scared of you. They’re scared of what you represent.
Progress.
So sitting there repeating my name because you want me to slow down or go backwards - absolutely not, it's just frustrating the hell out of me and everyone else in the room.
Accept the change and move with the times!
NOT "KIRA, KIRA, KIRA!" because doing that is just going to get a platonic volcanic eruption in your direction that will mean you have to move at a much quicker pace than you have ever been made to move before!
So the next time someone tells you, “Wow, you’re intense,” smile.
Take it as a badge of honour. A compliment.
A sign that you’re shaking the branches of the prehistoric forest.
Because honestly?
If your clarity scares dinosaurs…
You’re doing something right.


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