Sometimes the most powerful career moments happen years after the fact. Recently, I received an unexpected LinkedIn message that made me reflect on one of the most pivotal conversations of my early career—and the lessons it taught me about trusting your instincts when transitioning into management.
The Backstory: When Coding Wasn’t My Calling
Back in my developer days, I had a realization that many engineers face but don’t always voice: coding wasn’t my passion. Don’t get me wrong—I liked it well enough, but I was honestly struggling to produce what I considered quality work. There’s a certain mental block that kicks in when you’re working outside your zone of genius, and for me, that happened once problems reached a certain complexity level.
I was working in a tech stack I hadn’t trained for in bootcamp. While I’d become competent in Angular, I had zero interest in learning C# to support our backend and truly fulfill my “fullstack” job title. My heart just wasn’t in the technical depth required.
But here’s what I was passionate about: I’d worked incredibly hard on a project converting our legacy, manual deployment process into Azure DevOps pipelines. I was making connections outside the direct software engineering groups, thinking deeply about DevOps culture, operational considerations, and overall process improvement. I wanted to focus on how we got the job done, not just what we built.
Coming from my background as a Speech-Language Pathologist, I knew I was good with people. I missed having that human element as a focus of my day—working with varied professionals toward common goals, identifying objectives, and strategizing paths to reach them.
I was ready for management. I craved it.
The Conversation That Stuck
I’d just received a promotion to mid-level and was getting direct coaching around transitioning into leadership. In my mind, I didn’t need to become a senior developer before becoming a manager (a topic that probably deserves its own blog series).
During a 1:1, my manager and I were building an upskilling plan. He was focused on getting me to a senior role, which meant extensive C# training—work I genuinely didn’t want to do. When I made my case for a different path, in a moment of frustration, he told me I was being impatient.
That word hit me hard for several reasons:
I felt like I was finally doing what everyone said I should do: advocating for myself. As someone who’s naturally conflict-avoidant, this was growth for me.
I’d never seen this manager frustrated with me before. It felt like I’d hit a nerve, and I couldn’t understand why.
Creating shared understanding of goals and paths forward was supposed to be my strength. But now that I was on the receiving end of career guidance, was I missing something?
Not long after, this manager left for another opportunity. Within a few years, I successfully transitioned into management without becoming a senior developer first. But that moment—that word “impatient”—lingered like a gray cloud over my career journey.
The Apology That Changed Everything
Recently, that same manager reached out on LinkedIn with an unexpected message: an apology. He acknowledged that our interaction had made an impact on him too. He said he was proud of me and felt he’d made a mistake not recognizing I was ready for management.
If you’re reading this, Manager-of-Before, thank you. I can’t express how much it means to know you’re proud of me and see in me what I was striving for back then.
This apology came at a time when I’d been questioning whether I truly made the right choice moving into management as early as I did. The answer, honestly, depends on the day. But knowing that he—on the other side of our previous interaction—sees me thriving in this role means everything.
Three Lessons I’m Taking Forward
Reflecting on this experience, here are the insights swirling in my head:
1. Trust Your Gut When You Know You’re Ready
If you feel ready for something in your bones, don’t automatically let others convince you otherwise. There’s wisdom in your intuition about your own readiness, especially when it comes to leveraging existing strengths in new ways.
2. Your Leaders Know You—Listen Thoughtfully to Pushback
When managers push back on your career aspirations, try not to take it personally immediately. Consider their perspective thoughtfully. They may see development areas you haven’t acknowledged, or they may be operating from their own constraints and experiences.
3. Intense Responses Often Have Context You Can’t See
If your manager has a strong reaction to something, it’s not necessarily about what’s happening in that moment. Other pressures, constraints, or experiences may be narrowing their perspective and making it harder for them to show up as their best selves.
The Bigger Picture on Early Management Transitions
This experience reinforced something I’m passionate about: the path into management doesn’t have to be linear. While technical expertise matters, management is fundamentally about people, process, and vision. Sometimes the skills that make you ready for leadership—emotional intelligence, systems thinking, collaborative problem-solving—don’t perfectly align with traditional technical progression.
The key is honest self-assessment: Are you avoiding management because you’re not ready, or are you avoiding technical depth because management is where your strengths and interests truly lie?
Your Turn: Trusting Your Career Instincts
Have you ever had a career conversation that stuck with you? A moment when you advocated for yourself and faced unexpected resistance? I’d love to hear about your experiences with non-traditional career transitions and how you navigated the tension between others’ expectations and your own intuition.