There’s something profoundly humbling about being new. It strips away our carefully constructed competence, leaving us exposed in our not-knowing. We carry the ghosts of past criticism, expecting harsh judgment, only to find that the loudest critic lives within.

A couple of months ago, the startup I worked for got acquired. Since then, I’ve taken on a new role in the larger company that bought us. Going from a actually fun 30-person team to a 900+ employee conglomerate was, to put it plainly, not fun. My original team were so human and full of people I considered friends. My new team is great too—don’t get me wrong—but it’s just not the same. But life happens, and it is what it is.

My role shifted too. I moved down from AE to BDR (a demotion). If you know anything about the sales landscape, this sucks. It wasn’t the outcome I’d hoped for, but job hunting during the holidays sounded much worse. So I took it, figuring I’d spare myself the stress.

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You’d think, having done the role for quite some time, I’d slide right into it at the new place...nope. Turns out, familiarity doesn’t equal ease. Processes and even the rhythm of the team were foreign. It was like being a cashier who knew the job but couldn’t work the register, and it stressed me out more than I care to admit.

Maybe it’s my people-pleasing tendencies and the fear that, despite being two weeks in, I wasn’t producing enough. My brain legit kept spiraling down negativity lane, even though, objectively, I knew I was just starting. So no shit... But emotionally, I just couldn't give myself a break.

Why is it so hard to stand in the discomfort of not knowing? I hate it. Come to think of it though...isn’t that everyone? Humans as a whole hate what they do not know.

If you have ever felt like this, know that it is a universal thing...this aversion to uncertainty. We’re wired to look for ways we can take control or have that security. It’s why we check the weather obsessively or why we Google the shit out of something instead of letting our brains ponder it for a sec. Not knowing feels like a threat, even when it’s harmless.

I’ve been thinking a lot about where that comes from. Society? Or is it ingrained deeper? Perhaps it’s the perception of “instant success” we’re surrounded by on social media. The stories we’re told are all about the wins, the “look how far I’ve come” moments. Nobody talks about the hours spent in the arena of struggle, the in-between of 0 to 1. It isn't pretty and doesn't get views on socials, so why bother? So when we’re in it...when I’m in it...it feels uniquely awful in a way, like I’m the only one struggling.

I’ve also realized something else though. The moments of not knowing, of being new, are where the real growth happens. It’s cliche, I know, but it’s true—it pushes us out of our comfort zones and forces us to build new skills, habits, and ways of seeing ourselves. They’re uncomfortable experiences because they have to be. It sucks, but alas, growth isn’t supposed to feel cozy.

Still, despite knowing this and telling you with confidence behind my keyboard with a smug look on my face, I’ve still got a long way to go in making peace with it. I despise not knowing. To think there are things I don’t know that I don’t know...ah! But I’m learning, slowly (and I mean slowly), to sit with it. If you’re new at something right now, welcome to the club! The discomfort sucks, but it’s also proof you’re on the right path.

This is the mindset I’m committing to for 2025: embracing the uncomfortable, the unknowing, the new. That’s the path that’s going to take me to where I need to go. In the meantime, I’ll be here, steeped in the constant newness of my job and my writing. And maybe, just maybe, if the gurus are right, I’ll learn to love it so much that I seek it out.

Guess we’ll see.

Share

There’s something profoundly humbling about being new. It strips away our carefully constructed competence, leaving us exposed in our not-knowing. We carry the ghosts of past criticism, expecting harsh judgment, only to find that the loudest critic lives within.

A couple of months ago, the startup I worked for got acquired. Since then, I’ve taken on a new role in the larger company that bought us. Going from a actually fun 30-person team to a 900+ employee conglomerate was, to put it plainly, not fun. My original team were so human and full of people I considered friends. My new team is great too—don’t get me wrong—but it’s just not the same. But life happens, and it is what it is.

My role shifted too. I moved down from AE to BDR (a demotion). If you know anything about the sales landscape, this sucks. It wasn’t the outcome I’d hoped for, but job hunting during the holidays sounded much worse. So I took it, figuring I’d spare myself the stress.

Subscribe now

You’d think, having done the role for quite some time, I’d slide right into it at the new place...nope. Turns out, familiarity doesn’t equal ease. Processes and even the rhythm of the team were foreign. It was like being a cashier who knew the job but couldn’t work the register, and it stressed me out more than I care to admit.

Maybe it’s my people-pleasing tendencies and the fear that, despite being two weeks in, I wasn’t producing enough. My brain legit kept spiraling down negativity lane, even though, objectively, I knew I was just starting. So no shit... But emotionally, I just couldn't give myself a break.

Why is it so hard to stand in the discomfort of not knowing? I hate it. Come to think of it though...isn’t that everyone? Humans as a whole hate what they do not know.

If you have ever felt like this, know that it is a universal thing...this aversion to uncertainty. We’re wired to look for ways we can take control or have that security. It’s why we check the weather obsessively or why we Google the shit out of something instead of letting our brains ponder it for a sec. Not knowing feels like a threat, even when it’s harmless.

I’ve been thinking a lot about where that comes from. Society? Or is it ingrained deeper? Perhaps it’s the perception of “instant success” we’re surrounded by on social media. The stories we’re told are all about the wins, the “look how far I’ve come” moments. Nobody talks about the hours spent in the arena of struggle, the in-between of 0 to 1. It isn't pretty and doesn't get views on socials, so why bother? So when we’re in it...when I’m in it...it feels uniquely awful in a way, like I’m the only one struggling.

I’ve also realized something else though. The moments of not knowing, of being new, are where the real growth happens. It’s cliche, I know, but it’s true—it pushes us out of our comfort zones and forces us to build new skills, habits, and ways of seeing ourselves. They’re uncomfortable experiences because they have to be. It sucks, but alas, growth isn’t supposed to feel cozy.

Still, despite knowing this and telling you with confidence behind my keyboard with a smug look on my face, I’ve still got a long way to go in making peace with it. I despise not knowing. To think there are things I don’t know that I don’t know...ah! But I’m learning, slowly (and I mean slowly), to sit with it. If you’re new at something right now, welcome to the club! The discomfort sucks, but it’s also proof you’re on the right path.

This is the mindset I’m committing to for 2025: embracing the uncomfortable, the unknowing, the new. That’s the path that’s going to take me to where I need to go. In the meantime, I’ll be here, steeped in the constant newness of my job and my writing. And maybe, just maybe, if the gurus are right, I’ll learn to love it so much that I seek it out.

Guess we’ll see.

Share