So… I Accidentally Became a Manager.
When I first became a manager, I’ll be honest – I hadn’t the faintest idea what that actually meant. I thought it would be more of the same, just with a slightly shinier job title.
It turns out that it came bundled with oodles of admin, a never-ending queue of team challenges, and the delightful balancing act of ensuring that both capacity and quality didn’t fall into the bin at the same time.
The real kicker? It wasn’t just my work anymore. It was everyone else’s, too. Cue overwhelm, panic, and the sneaking suspicion I should probably quit and retrain as a lawyer.
I genuinely thought management was about keeping everything the same, just making sure it all ran smoothly.
Spoiler: it isn’t. The role changes. You change. And most painfully, your relationship with your team changes.
You’re no longer “one of the gang” – you’re suddenly responsible for the people and the work. Congratulations, you’re the grown-up in the room now. (Horrifying, I know.)
And while I’m usually the type to spot the silver lining in a storm cloud, management was the first moment in my career where I thought, “Nope. Can’t do this. I need to quit.”
But I didn’t. Instead, I did what any good panicking professional does: I bought some books I only half-finished, I asked for help, and I had long chats with Mark (he’s good at listening). Somewhere in that mess, I learned more about myself than I expected.
Some Things I Learned (the hard way, naturally):
Letting go of control. Turns out, you can’t do all the things, all the time, for all the people. Who knew?
My role was not to solve problems, but to lift barriers. A subtle but crucial difference. Basically: less superhero, more road sweeper.
Performance is not a reflection of me. This was brutal. As a people-pleaser and professional empath, I’d feel crushed every time something went wrong. But their work is theirs. My job is to support, not absorb.
Help people grow, don’t just “fix” stuff. Supporting people through their challenges is more effective than offering immediate answers. (It also means fewer people hiding from you in meeting rooms.)
Avoiding conflict is not leadership. As much as my people-pleasing heart tried to dodge difficult conversations, I had to learn that clarity is kindness. Being vague to “keep the peace” just creates confusion, and confusion is far worse.
Frameworks are your friend. You don’t have to invent leadership from scratch. A bit of structure saves a lot of stress. (Read our blog on competencies)
The reward isn’t playing the hero. The real dopamine rush comes when someone else gets it – when you see that spark in their eyes as they realise, “I can do this without you.” That’s the moment you know you’re actually doing your job.
Final Thought
Management is messy. It’s overwhelming. But it’s also where the real growth happens – for your team and for you.
And if you stick with it, the rewards last far longer than the buzz of being the office hero.
Because in the end, leadership isn’t about you. It’s about creating the space for others to shine – preferably without you having to wear a cape.