The Best Transformation Ever

Before We Get to Work

Disclaimer: I’m probably oversharing.

I’m gonna give you a run-down of how the last two or three years had me feeling at work. If these feelings show up again, I’ll recognize them for what they are—a lot earlier. I hope.

The Good

I’ve stayed here for seven years because I believe in the product. What we’re building has the potential to change lives. My mother would’ve loved to have this when she was sick—it could have kept her out of the hospital. That belief has been my anchor.

When I started, my mandate was to implement the EPMO. There was so much to learn and build—pure experience capital. And I loved the process:

Researching. Capturing. Consolidating. Learning. Applying. Learning more. Improving. Iterating. That loop of continuous improvement? That’s where I thrive. I live for the cycle: explore, test, reflect, adapt. It energizes me. Same for a simple “Thank you, sam!”

Implementing OKRs was another thrill. I read everything I could get my hands on, built decks, collaborated with the board guy, and shared what I learned with the team. I was in my element. Learn-and-do-ium.

We touched on Playing to Win—another exciting reading session. But no real action followed. That was disappointing.

I’ve made work friends. Not a reason to stay, but it helps. I don’t have any serious issues with my coworkers. The US sales guy can be a douche. My boss, too, sometimes. Grumpy old men. But generally? We’re good. And even if people annoy me, I’m sure I annoy them right back. Balance.

The Hardest Part

Then, something shifted. For the last few years, I have felt unfulfilled. I talked with my boss about wanting more responsibility and where my interests lie, and nothing changed.

Recently, I wondered, if our colleague in Europe hadn’t gone on leave, would you include me? Often, I’ve wondered, too, maybe he knows I’m looking for work, and that’s why he’s not including me in things I am desperate to be a part of. Just because I am looking for work doesn’t mean that I loved what I did any less; I still did the best with what I got.

I didn’t start job hunting because I didn’t care. I started because the feeling of being left out built up over time

The other day, my boss made a comment about finally trusting me. And that struck me. Finally? After seven years? Well, aren’t I lucky! You piece of …

I felt sidelined. I’m yelling, “Put me in, coach,” and coach keeps saying, “Yeah, yeah,” but never makes the call.

Sure, I led OKR implementation—during the COVID era. But I want more. I want to grow into strategy. I want to stretch.

Sometimes, I’d wondered if he thinks I’m incapable of learning. Suppose he doesn’t see my growth mindset. I’m looking for experience capital—but I can’t build that without exposure.

Then I watched the movie Opus and couldn’t stop thinking about Jim Jones—how he welcomed everyone into his church, but no people of colour were in the equivalent of the executive wing.

That’s what this feels like. I’m being told: “This is as far as you go—unless you’re coming along to take notes.”

I was in this horrible loop. Maybe he suspects I’m job hunting. And I am. And that’s why he’s not giving me more responsibility. But if you give me more responsibility, I won’t need to job hunt. There’s nothing left for me. I’ve stopped growing; if I don’t go, I will die.

Then I read that McKinsey article, where I learned the term experience capital. I’m not asking to be promoted to something I can’t do. I’m asking for opportunities to grow.

I want my organization to take my career development as seriously as I do.
sam

This may be why I’ve never stayed anywhere longer than two years. I get restless when I’m not expanding (although … I’ve expanded enough physically.)

I’m on an assembly line, putting the driver-side door on the car. Over and over. And I’m screaming, can I try putting on the tires? Can I put in the engine? Ooh, how about the roof (hmm, that might not be correct. The roof is part of the frame, yes? I should probably know this before I start slapping it on sedans.)

And most people don’t realize how expansive project management is, which is oh-so frustrating. It can connect you to every part of the business.

Run the business
Grow the business
Transform the business: That’s where I thrive. Where I wanna live!
Shit the bed business: Yes, people can make a living from bed shitting.

The Non-Rude Awakening

I realized yesterday on my way home from work.

By the way, I come to all kinds of epiphanies on the way home; I’ll sit on the train, do my jigsaw puzzles, listen to music, inhale the stale urine of homelessness, and stuff comes to me.

Somewhere along the way, I internalized a belief that I needed permission to take up space. To grow. I lost confidence in my abilities.

I forgot I have over 15 years of experience in professional services, most aspects of project management, and software development. I forgot I’d delivered. I’ve driven change. I’ve earned trust. The lack of recognition made me question myself, and it was exhausting. Depressing.

I’m used to overthinking; it’s how my brain works, but second-guessing myself at every turn is the worst.

But I see it now. I’m not waiting for permission anymore. I’m not asking to belong at the table; I have already earned a seat. And I don’t know when I lost confidence in my abilities, but I’m delighted I don’t feel that way anymore.

I never thought I could be jaded. If someone had accused me of that, I would have stabbed them in the throat with the pointy wooden fork I keep in my pocket (cause they’re not suitable for eating.)

The best part is that yesterday, I learned I can unjade myself. The shit-covered glasses are off. I decided to treat this job like I did when I started. I now have a new level of excitement, a new can-do attitude, and a renewed desire to be of service.
it’s me again

I even turned off my LinkedIn looking-for-work thing. This may be how all things are—you have to find a way to change your mind?

Please don’t get me wrong; when I compare this to all things, I’m not telling you to stay in an abusive relationship or stand outside in stormy weather waiting to get hit by a weather vane (do they even still have those?)

So here I am: Seven years in. Day one mindset. Shit-covered glasses off. Let’s go. I’m grateful for this realization, the renewed opportunities, and I feel better.