I Haven’t Even Had My Coffee Yet

Ah, the post-event feedback…you spent months producing a high-stakes fundraiser, managing details, committees, and expectations — all the things that make you a pro. And, you nailed it. Guests raved, the client smiled, a hug and a high five perhaps and the night was a success. Then, the next morning, your inbox chimes. The subject line reads “Quick Follow-Up From Last Night.” Your stomach already knows what’s coming.

You open the email even though you have to be greeting your client for the day in an hour…

“The bar was serving the public.” “The seafood display was moved without my consent.” “The wrong glasses were used for the signature drink.”

Maybe they had a board member pointing fingers. Maybe someone on their team didn’t get the memo. Maybe they’re under pressure to justify every detail. You don’t know what their night looked like after you packed up — only that something has shifted in their tone.

It still stings. You get that pit in your stomach, your cheeks flush, and it’s because you care AND you already over-delivered – yet this is what you’re dealing with. Know this – if the event had been a colossal failure, you’d have been in it the night before — not reading about it the next day. Right?

Pause = Protection

Here’s the truth: post-event feedback usually isn’t about you. It’s about control, fear, or inexperience — the invisible stuff that bubbles up when the adrenaline fades. The person on the other end of that keyboard is often writing from a place of defense. Maybe they’re getting pressure from someone on their team or board. Maybe they picked up the planning halfway through, and a promise made early on never made it to them. Something shifted, and now they’re the one answering for it.

This is where your perception matters most. When you listen instead of react, you might realize you have the answer they need — or at least the clarity they’re missing. You’ve seen this pattern before. You know how event dynamics twist behind the scenes. This might be your fiftieth gala, but for them, it could be their one and only.

That’s your opening to be the calm one — the steady hand. Not to take blame that isn’t yours, but to bring perspective to a moment that’s lost it.

This Will Have to Wait — and It’s Okay

The post-event feedback email always lands when you’re already knee-deep in another setup — mid load-in, juggling checklists, trying to stay on for a new client while replaying last night in your head. Take a breath. You can’t fix this in the middle of setup — and you shouldn’t try to.

Buying time isn’t avoidance. It’s what gives you space to get your ducks in a row — to gather facts, talk with your team, and approach the situation with clarity instead of adrenaline.

Honor the email. Respond professionally, but don’t get pulled into solving it on the spot. Something as simple as this is enough:

“I wanted to let you know I received your email and quickly share that I’m managing an event taking place this evening. I’d like to schedule time to talk tomorrow at X time so I can give this my full attention.”

That one sentence tells them everything they need to know — that you’re responsive, composed, and capable. It buys you time to regroup, and it gives them time to calm down and get factual. By the time that conversation happens, everyone’s pulse has dropped — including yours.

Let’s Talk About Post-Event Feedback

When you do connect, skip the email back-and-forth and pick up the phone. Let your tone carry the steadiness you’ve rebuilt. You can say, “I wanted to connect directly so we can go over what you experienced,” or “Let’s walk through what happened so we can clarify what worked and what didn’t.”

If something they’ve said doesn’t match reality, don’t argue – if you want to move on – it’s not about proving a point. It’s about grounding the conversation in what you actually know to be true. Try, “I want to share what I observed on-site,” or “I’ve reviewed the team’s post-event recap and would like to share those notes.”

Then bridge the gap. Take a breather to research things and make a follow up plan, or perhaps walk through what really happened together for some understanding.

The Living and Breathing Event

Every event is a living, breathing thing. And while you know that, maybe your client doesn’t. A detail that didn’t match the timeline was probably someone’s attempt to keep things flowing smoothly. That champagne glass that was tall and not a coupe? They ran out and kept service moving. Table 50 getting fewer potatoes than Table 30? The VIPs at Table 30 changed their order at the last second, and your catering team adjusted on the fly.

You know the drill — but perhaps the client doesn’t. There will always be something. For 99% of the guests, the night was a success, and they’ve already moved on with their day.

And that’s the point. This quick example doesn’t solve every situation, but hopefully it reminds us to breathe, to pause, and to keep perspective. While none of this is brain surgery — it is event work with emotional high-stakes and the unpredictable that we have to predict. We make magic out of chaos, find time to say thank you at the end of the night and remind ourselves that the next event is a clean slate.

So give yourself the same grace you’d give a vendor, a client, or a guest who’s having a moment. You did the work. You handled it. You’ll do it again — probably next week.  And, remember Number 13 on this article from Eventible.

This is Week 2 of a five-part series. Over the next three weeks, we’ll talk about:

• Challenge of moving on without carrying the weight
• Quick postmortems that save you from repeating mistakes
• Contracts that protect you when memories fade