Tag Archives: Work

Topics related to professional life, careers, productivity, and workplace experiences.

#19 The humbling path of starting over

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When I started my new job last November, I thought I would have learned everything there was to know about the role very quickly, that I would have been speaking the smoothest German in no time, and that after a few weeks, I would be having promotion talks with my manager for my outstanding performance.
I came from a very challenging position as a Senior Content Designer, handling the end-to-end content of multiple products in different languages for a tax-filing app. Whatever lay ahead of me, will not be more challenging than that. I thought.
– Besides. – I said to myself. – It’s just a customer support role. How difficult can it be? Plus. – I concluded. – I am a senior professional with years of experience helping people understand complex topics easily.”

I can’t believe the size of the bait I took from my own ego. My arrogance, ignorance, and stubbornness were totally detrimental to me. On the outside, though, I was handling myself very well—I wore, once more, the shoes of a devoted student who’s fully dedicated to learning as much as possible and who’s very appreciative of the opportunity given, especially in these times when having a job feels more like a privilege than a human right. On the inside, feelings of dissatisfaction and frustration corroded me, as I secretly perceived this new beginning as a step back in my career—a feeling that got in the way of the smoother and more pleasant start I was so much looking for.

But paradoxically, what saved me from complete self-sabotage was exactly the intensity of the challenge I was facing, which stimulated my curiosity and willingness to overcome the obstacles and difficulties I encountered.

The first massive challenge I experienced was communicating with colleagues exclusively in German. The funny thing is that a German-speaking job was something I had been looking for since I moved to Germany, but achieving that isn’t simple. You need a good level of German to start from, and despite the hundreds of hours I had invested in courses, tandems, reading books, and watching movies in German, having a normally paced conversation at work is tough. You can’t really stop and ask people to repeat a sentence constantly.

The second challenge was learning new concepts related to computer networking, electronics, and many other technical topics fundamental to understanding the products and customers.

Finally, the third biggest and maybe most complex challenge is understanding the myriad of problems that customers face and learning how to guide them toward the best, most simple, and satisfying solution possible—all while avoiding taking anything personally and being a company cheerleader.

So how did I keep afloat during these first two months in this radical and challenging career change? How did I maintain my sanity while facing such a steep learning curve? Once more, acceptance and surrender really helped me. Understanding that I couldn’t have everything under control as I did after years of experience in other roles, and that I would struggle to communicate with my colleagues and clients in German, was truly like lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. I know that my German will suck for months until it doesn’t anymore; I know I won’t be in my comfort zone in terms of skills and knowledge until I will again; and I know I will struggle to solve most customer problems until I have mastered the most important of them.

Growth is less about perfection and more about perseverance. It’s more about embracing limitations and focusing on incremental improvements than setting flashy goals and unrealistic expectations. When we restart with a series of overwhelming challenges ahead of us, it’s really okay to feel uncomfortable, to struggle, and to sound silly while speaking a very complex foreign language—that’s learning right there, that’s growth right there! Nothing could be better than that.

Things take time, especially when there are big changes involved that we are not used to handling. But things are difficult until they aren’t anymore.

I’m really looking forward to seeing where I’ll be one year from now. At the same time, I want to exorcise from my future any freaking layoff shadow—even though now I know that I can overcome that too.

#16 A spontanous reflection after a long day

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I had forgotten how, at the end of each day, work can deplete us of the energy to create anything beyond what we are expected to do at the office. This is not a complaint—it’s just an acknowledgment of reality. As I write these words, I’m squeezing my neurons to produce something meaningful, even though I know it might be a failed attempt.

I usually write my posts well in advance, which allows me to reflect on what I wrote and polish it if necessary. I focus on a specific topic that I’ve had in mind for a while, or sometimes on something that comes up spontaneously. Regardless, I usually schedule the post to be published on Fridays. Today, however, I’m writing a very spontaneous post on no particular topic, which I will publish immediately.

I’m not sure why I feel this need to justify myself—to whom? What I write is barely read by anyone. Even my girlfriend and a really good friend—whom I forced myself to send links to a couple of posts—aren’t particularly interested in my “work thoughts,” and honestly, I don’t blame them. This can be an exhausting topic and difficult to follow purely on a personal impulse, as I tend to ping-pong here and there without a precise plan, guided only by my love for writing. But I love it the way it is. I don’t seek much visibility; I really enjoy my “wannabe” blog/personal website that never quite takes off, with its occasional visitor who drops by briefly—and the rare reader who shows appreciation with a like.

I guess I’m not justifying myself but rather reflecting on this nonsensical train of thought on a very long and tiring Thursday.

There are a lot of topics I want to discuss in my future posts, including the following draft titles that I have in mind:

  • A good manager and a good team are the most important things in a job
  • Understanding that I can overcome any struggle helps with challenges (I think I will repeat this topic over and over, as it’s some sort of “resilience-building mantra” for me)
  • Perspective and free writing
  • How I use AI in my blog posts
  • Reflections on the end of the year: a tough one

So, for my courageous (or imaginary) readers, stay tuned, as 2025 is going to be filled with boring, probably badly written, and unexciting topics.

#15 When stoicism turns sour – Part 1

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The way I understand it, the Stoic approach teaches us to accept whatever comes our way with calmness, without compromising our values. And I think it’s a valuable way to see things. However, over time, I realized that this philosophy led me to focus more on the negative possibilities lying ahead rather than the positive ones. I started to picture worst-case scenarios to prepare myself to accept them beforehand. I kind of twisted Stoicism to my own disadvantage—DIY philosophy gone wrong, ouch!

Focusing on the gloomy side of things eventually drained me, and I didn’t even realize what I was doing until I pushed it too far. At first, I would comment on discussions, expressing mainly opinions on what could go wrong. When someone called me out for being pessimistic, I would correct them, insisting I was just being “realistic.”

But this mindset snowballed. I began developing irrational fears about even the smallest things. I became extremely controlling—of myself, my habits, my activities, the situations I put myself in, and the people I met. I built a pattern of suspicion toward literally everything, and over time, it became more and more ingrained in my system.

What’s fascinating to notice, though, is that at the same time this mindset was evolving, I became more organized and productive than ever—but with a cynical and detached attitude toward others. Strangely enough, in terms of my career, this period marked the most significant advancements. I felt a bit like one of those high-ranking professionals or “psychopathic CEOs” living in a bubble of strategic thinking, productivity, and metrics-driven values.

But this way of thinking wasn’t sustainable, at least not for me. I’ve always been a sensitive person, deeply connected to and attentive toward the people around me. This mindset was kilometers away from my core.

Worse yet, I lacked the self-compassion to understand where all of this was originating from. My default relationship with myself was rooted in self-criticism and intolerance. I couldn’t stand myself anymore. Things got even worse: I slowly became paranoid. I lost my courage and, to a certain extent, my curiosity to go out, discover new things, and meet new people.

It took me a while to realize these patterns, but when I did, thankfully, I understood I needed to hit the reset button. I had to start working on myself and make the necessary adjustments, whatever that meant.

I needed to heal. And for the person I was back then—diffident, suspicious, and pessimistic—that was a journey I could only embark on alone.

The first step I took was…

To be continued.

#13 The woman with the bike on the tram

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(Average Reading Time: 4 minutes)

This morning, I experienced a typical Berlin mid-November scene: a tram packed with moody, wet adults, adolescents, and children on their way to work and school. The energy was subdued yet calming. Despite the lack of enthusiasm and excitement, there was a certain peace in the air. Everyone was minding their own business, respecting the unspoken agreement to keep conversations minimal. Heads were buried in screens, books, or gazing out of the window.

As usual, I took out the book I was currently reading and, within moments, was completely absorbed. The city noises, the smell of soaked bodies—all of it faded as I was drawn deeper into the story. The opening and closing of doors at each stop and the subtle shifts in the crowd barely registered as I turned page after page.

Then, the flow of the commute was interrupted. A woman with a bike entered the tram exactly where I was standing forcing me to make a couple of steps back and squeeze myself against a bench of strangers, including a tiny girl that had chosen a corner for herself to zoom out of the rest of the crowd. The woman with the bike pushed her way in, further jostling against the tightly packed passengers, risking injury to both children and adults standing shoulder to shoulder. Eyes turned toward her, expecting an apology, a conciliatory smile, or, better yet, her realizing the situation and stepping back out. But none of that happened. She stood there, straight and stiff, chin held high, exuding an air of entitlement I had rarely seen.

I noticed a baby seat attached to the back of her bike as she pressed a few children against the doors. The passengers, already drained and bracing for their day ahead, lacked the energy to challenge her behavior. It was simply too early for that. And me? I wouldn’t dare confront a mother during the morning rush in a city as ultra-feminist and politically correct as Berlin. Not a chance.

Still, like everyone else, I was irritated. The carefully curated, mid-November bubble of morning quiet had burst. The shared sense of empathy was gone, replaced by heavy sighs and exasperated glances as the tram carried us to the next stops.

Finally, my transfer stop arrived. I crossed the street to the S-Bahn at Alexanderplatz, boarded the train, and reopened my book, ready to return to my story.

Written on 14.11.2024

#11 Avoiding resentment and reactivity

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(Average Reading Time: 7 minutes)

Some people believe that, in a work environment, you must assert yourself by setting firm boundaries with strength and determination, never allowing anyone to undermine your position. I fully agree with setting clear boundaries, but the approach matters. If “strength” translates to being aggressive, defensive, or perpetually on guard, assuming the worst in others, then I disagree.

In the long run, this approach breeds paranoia, making it challenging for others to work with and relate to us. I’ve been on both sides of this dynamic at different stages in my life. What I’ve found insightful is that a company’s culture is rarely about the idealized values outlined by executives. Rather, it’s defined by the values each employee embodies and the way they adapt to the existing culture within their teams.

The companies and teams I found the easiest to integrate with—and where I felt I could thrive—were those where emotional maturity prevailed or where there was, at least, a collective inclination toward it. By “emotional maturity,” I mean an environment without inflated egos, where no one overly identifies with their role in a way that makes them unduly reactive or critical. For instance, when team members see feedback as a mutual growth tool rather than a personal critique, it fosters a supportive environment rather than a hostile one.

Of course, no workplace is perfect. There will be times when we take things personally, and tense moments are inevitable. We are human, after all. Expecting total detachment or a complete absence of reactivity over months and years of collaboration is unrealistic. The key is learning to manage these tensions constructively.

On this front, I’ve found tremendous support in the Nonviolent Communication (NVC) principles developed by Marshall Rosenberg. NVC emphasizes empathetic listening, focusing on both our own and others’ needs, and communicating in a way that strengthens relationships rather than damages them. I recommend reading Rosenberg’s book or even attending NVC workshops; these principles can genuinely transform our interactions.

Ultimately, it’s essential to avoid harboring resentment—whether toward ourselves or others—and to remember that we’re part of a continuous growth process. Every challenge is an opportunity to learn, depending on our perspective. Rather than labeling experiences as “good” or “bad,” it’s more productive to view them as parts of life’s broader journey.

What truly matters is our ability to work harmoniously with the communities we’re part of, remaining aware of our values, staying true to ourselves, and upholding our principles without losing our sense of self. By focusing on collaboration and maturity, we contribute positively to both our personal growth and the work environment around us.

#10 Repeated career attempts

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(Average Reading Time: 4 minutes)

A month ago, I visited the Deutsche Kinemathek in Berlin with my girlfriend. As we wandered through captivating installations that depicted the history of German cinema, nostalgia crept in. I found myself reflecting on my bachelor’s studies in cinema—my attempts at directing short films, acting, writing screenplays, and so on. The feelings were pleasant at first, but soon I began ruminating on the trajectory of my professional life. I had moved from one job title to another, often viewing these shifts through a harsh, judgmental lens rather than appreciating them as part of my journey.

Instead of recognizing the value I brought to each role—my professional approach, strong work ethic, and endless curiosity—I focused on what I perceived as missteps. I overlooked the fact that I had become a content expert with a proven track record in customer satisfaction. That, in itself, is a significant achievement. It means I know my strengths and where I can contribute most effectively.

What I realized is that this way of thinking is common, perhaps even ingrained. After all, we set goals for ourselves and strive for continuous improvement. When we look back, we want to see a clear path of progress, not stagnation—or worse, regression. But here’s the crucial question: Is this need for progress real, or is it a projection of unrealistic societal values that have crept into our everyday thinking? I believe it’s the latter.

The pursuit of a “great” career, or simply a career, often masks a deeper need for stability—a need that is entirely human. But when this desire for stability becomes an obsession, to the point where we resent the ups and downs that shape our lives and define who we are, then there’s something wrong with the narrative we’ve internalized. This narrative, fueled by Western ideals of ambition and extraordinary achievements, often overlooks the importance of community, teamwork, self-compassion, and acceptance.

I belive that self-compassion and acceptance, especially, are qualities we need to remind ourselves of constantly. Research shows that they are key to building resilience, reducing stress, and safeguarding our mental health.

In the end, our careers aren’t always linear paths with clear milestones of success. They are filled with twists, turns, and moments of uncertainty. What truly matters is not how precisely we follow a predefined route, but how we adapt, learn, and grow along the way. By embracing self-compassion and accepting where we are—rather than constantly chasing where we think we should be—we give ourselves the freedom to explore new opportunities, evolve with our experiences, and build resilience. It’s in this acceptance that we find true empowerment, allowing us to navigate life’s ups and downs with grace, confidence, and a deeper sense of purpose.