You know, for the longest time, I just figured if I worked hard, kept my head down, and did a good job, things would just… happen. My career would just kinda organically grow, right? Boy, was I wrong. I mean, sure, I wasn’t just sitting around, but I wasn’t really driving anything either. It was more like being a passenger, hoping the driver knew where they were going.
I started noticing that some folks, maybe not even working harder than me, were just getting more traction. Like they had a secret map or something. So, I figured, no more sitting back. It was time to actually do something different. I wasn’t going to wait for opportunities; I was gonna start making them happen, or at least setting myself up for them.
The first thing I decided to tackle was getting my head around what I actually wanted. Not just a vague “more money” or “better title,” but like, what kind of work truly clicked for me? What parts of my day energized me, and what just drained me dry? I grabbed a cheap notebook, nothing fancy, just a plain one, and started jotting down observations every single day. What I did, how I felt doing it, what went well, what completely tanked. It wasn’t about being perfect; it was just about getting it out of my head and onto paper.
After a few weeks of this, patterns started showing up. I could see clearly that the tasks where I got to dig into stuff, figure out how things connected, and then organize it all into something clear – those were my jam. The stuff that felt like just shuffling papers or endless back-and-forths? Ugh. Big energy drain. This little exercise, just observing myself, gave me a massive clue.
Next up, I realized I was really good at spotting the little things that could break a project. The tiny details no one else seemed to notice. Instead of just quietly fixing them or worrying about them, I started thinking, “How can I make this useful?” I began compiling these observations, not as complaints, but as potential improvements. I’d write them down, super clear, super concise, and then, if it made sense, I’d bring them up. Not in a “look how smart I am” way, but in a “hey, I saw this, maybe we can tweak it so it doesn’t become a headache later” way. It slowly changed how people saw my ‘eye for detail’ – from sometimes being seen as nitpicky to being seen as a problem-solver.
Then came the big one: learning to ask for feedback. Oh man, that was tough. I used to just hope someone would tell me I was doing great, or if something was off, that they’d gently guide me. Nope. Turns out, most people are too busy to micromanage or even give unsolicited praise. So, I started just asking. After I finished a task or a project, especially one that I put a lot into, I’d just ask my manager or a trusted colleague, “Hey, how do you think that went? Is there anything I could have done better or differently?” Sometimes the feedback was awesome, sometimes it was a bit tough to hear, but every single time, it gave me something to chew on. I pushed myself not to get defensive, but to really listen and try to understand what they meant.
This wasn’t a one-and-done thing, you know? It became a routine. Each week, I’d pick one or two areas from my notebook observations or from the feedback I got, and I’d try to consciously do something different. Maybe it was practicing explaining a complex idea in simpler terms. Maybe it was setting a hard deadline for myself to stop tweaking something and just call it “done” instead of chasing perfect. Maybe it was learning a new trick in a software I used every day to make my life just a tiny bit smoother.
I also figured out that just doing the work wasn’t enough; people needed to know what I was doing. I’m not naturally one for shouting my achievements from the rooftops, but I started looking for low-key ways to share. A quick update in a team meeting about a little win, an email to my manager outlining progress on a project, or even just mentioning a success in a casual chat. It wasn’t bragging; it was just keeping people in the loop. It made a surprising difference in how visible my contributions became.
It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly, I could feel a shift. I started feeling more in control, less like things were just happening to me and more like I was guiding my own ship. It’s still a work in progress, every single week brings new stuff to figure out, new challenges. But now, it feels less like a struggle and more like an ongoing journey of learning and tweaking. Just keep observing, keep adjusting, and keep doing a little bit better than yesterday. That’s the real secret, I think.
