One day, several years ago, my manager and the CTO pulled me aside to tell me “The business has decided not to continue with your employment. We don’t have the processes or resources here to make you successful.”
I felt my ears ringing. Cortisol was spiking. Dread came first, then shame. I’d never been fired before. How would this affect my life? What would future employers think? Is this a strike on my record?
The business had determined that I was a liability. In Gen-Z terms, it was my “fuck around and find out” moment. I had turned up late, disappeared on lunch breaks, and was getting distracted in meetings. Despite performing well in the interview, I lacked discipline. It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me.
This would go on to live rent-free in my brain, presumably forever. Now that managing a team is a realistic possibility in the next 1–2 years, I’ve reflected on this moment and realised its importance.
Most people get uncomfortable when they have to be critical about another person, but my manager had the courage to point out that there were clear expectations set for my role, and that I was failing to meet them. He had noticed a problem that held his team back from becoming high performers, and took actions to resolve.
This guy’s style was not just criticism—he had a keen interest in my professional development. He was an excellent technical mentor and incredibly detail-oriented. His advice set the stage for the rest of my career, even if I ended up holding the opposite opinion (for example: he was a Clean Architecture fan back then).
Good managers give praise. Great managers give negative feedback. The best will terminate you—with respect and professionalism. Failing probation bruised my ego, but it was necessary and I don’t resent it. I wouldn’t have made it this far had I not been fired that day.
You can’t grow solely on praise. You need failures to learn.