I Thought I Knew What the Job Was

2026-04-01·5 min read

One year ago today, I became an engineering manager. I also started writing about it. And one year in, I have a lot more to say.

I had been an engineer for years, watched managers around me, and thought I had a good picture of what the job looked like.

I was wrong.

Not completely. But enough that the first year felt like discovering a different job entirely.

The Version I Signed Up For

I became a manager because I genuinely like people. I wanted to help them grow, have real conversations in 1:1s, remove blockers, and build a team where everyone felt good about their work. That was the job in my head. The good parts.

And those things are real. They exist. I still get to do them.

But they are a smaller piece of the picture than I expected.

You Are Not an IC Anymore

The first thing nobody really prepares you for is the feeling of not shipping. As an engineer, your contribution is visible. You open a pull request. You close a ticket. You can point at something and say: I built that.

As a manager, it doesn't work like that. Your work is slower, more diffuse, harder to measure. Some days I finished a full week and struggled to explain what I had actually done.

And now with AI, it's even more complicated. I can open a terminal, use Claude Code, and write something that works in a few hours. It feels good. It feels like progress in a way that's easy to see and easy to feel. So the pull back toward the keyboard is real. I feel it.

I wrote about AI and the way it makes you feel brilliant in my last post. As a manager, that same effect creates a new kind of trap: doing IC work because it gives you a clear signal that you contributed, when your real job is somewhere else.

The Imposter in the Room

Losing those clear signals does something to your head.

When you are an engineer, you know if you are good. The code works or it doesn't. The system is fast or it isn't. There is always something to measure yourself against.

Management doesn't give you that. You sit in rooms with more experienced managers, make decisions you are not fully sure about, and wonder if everyone else just naturally knows things you are still figuring out. You look confident on the outside because the job requires it. On the inside, you are not always sure you are the right person for this.

I felt that a lot in year one. After the terminations. After difficult conversations that didn't land the way I wanted. After weeks where I couldn't tell if the team was better or worse because of me.

What I learned is that the feeling doesn't mean you are doing it wrong. It might actually mean you are doing it right. The managers who never doubt themselves are usually the ones you should worry about.

The Peer Becomes the Manager

I joined this role after years working alongside the same people. Some of them became my direct reports overnight.

That shift is harder than it sounds. You want to stay friendly. You want the relationship to feel the same. And so you avoid the hard conversations, because having them feels like breaking something that used to work.

I had to do two terminations this year. Both were the right decision for the team. Both were the worst moments of my career.

One of the guys I really liked. We had been peers. And now I was sitting in a room making a decision about his future. That feeling doesn't go away quickly.

What helped was starting to read Radical Candor. The idea that being honest is actually the kind thing to do. That avoiding hard feedback in a 1:1 is not protecting someone, it's doing them a disservice. I'm still learning this. It doesn't come naturally when your instinct is to be kind. But I'm getting better at it.

The Altitude Was Higher Than I Expected

I thought strategy meant setting goals and tracking delivery. It is that, but it is also a lot more.

Headcount decisions. Org pressure. A big migration running in the background, with the team stretched and the stakes high. Needing more senior engineers and not having them. Navigating conversations that happen above your level but directly shape your team's reality.

Nobody really told me how much of the job happens at that altitude. You are not just taking care of people. You are also playing a longer game, thinking about the team's position, health, and direction inside a company that is always moving.

My team went from nine to seven people this year. Not all terminations. Some transfers to other teams. But each one required a decision, a conversation, and a plan.

What Made It Worth It

By the end of the year, I got feedback from my team. People called me people-centric. That is the thing I try hardest to be, so hearing it meant a lot.

I also got lucky with the environment. Other managers around me were supportive, not territorial. Learning from people who have been through this longer than I have made a real difference.

And honestly, I enjoy the variety. The challenges are completely different from engineering. Some days are hard in ways I did not expect. But I am never bored.