Bringing Yourself to Work
Wow, this is so much more tiring than programming…
If you’ve ever ended a day feeling emotionally drained after a string of 1:1s, tough conversations, or just carrying the emotional weight of your team—you’re not alone.
For managers, it’s not just the work itself—it’s how much of yourself the job asks you to bring to the table.
And that’s not something many people tell you about when you first step into leadership.
It’s Not Just Technical Anymore
As a manager, you’re still dealing with all the usual complexity—architecture, deadlines, strategy. But layered on top of that is a whole other dimension: people.
When things are good, it’s deeply rewarding. When things are rough? It can feel overwhelming.
Let’s paint a picture:
- You’re leading a high-stakes project that’s behind schedule.
- Bob is frustrated about a disappointing raise—and you had no control over it.
- Susan confides that her partner is very ill.
- Jack’s underperforming, but doesn’t see it—and resists feedback.
- Morale is low after a recent round of layoffs.
- And on top of all that, you’re carrying your own personal challenges, expectations from leadership, and pressure from every direction.
In moments like these, the natural question becomes:
How much am I supposed to carry?
How much should I care when I’m barely keeping it together myself?
It’s Your Job to Care
It’s not just about delivery. As a manager, your job is to care.
You’re the confidante, the coach, the sounding board. The one who steadies the ship when everything feels uncertain. That doesn’t mean you have to be perfect or stoic—but it does mean you have to be present. And human.
If you’re considering becoming a manager, this is the part that rarely makes it into job descriptions. It’s not just about hiring, shipping, or scaling—it’s about showing up for your people in a deeply human way.
Yes, it’s emotional. And yes, it’s exhausting at times. But it’s also where the real magic of leadership happens.
What Does “Bringing Your Whole Self” Actually Mean?
We hear this phrase a lot: bring your whole self to work. But what does that look like in practice?
Here’s how I interpret it:
It means showing your true emotions. Not just the polished, “professional” ones. That includes frustration, sadness, excitement, even silliness. All of those are human—and trying to suppress them under a façade of professionalism limits your ability to build trust.
It also means being open about your weaknesses. Not pretending to be perfect. Not acting like you have it all figured out. Real leadership starts with vulnerability. And it gives your team permission to do the same.
An environment where people can be themselves—flaws and all—is one where they’re most likely to thrive.
Trust Enables Performance
The emotional effort of showing up, caring deeply, and building trust is worth it—because trust is what enables high performance.
In an environment of trust:
- People feel safe admitting mistakes.
- Conversations about performance don’t feel like personal attacks.
- Feedback flows freely—up, down, and sideways.
- Collaboration gets easier.
- Growth accelerates.
Without trust, feedback gets buried. Tensions linger. Problems fester.
With trust, hard conversations become just another part of how we get better—together.
Practice Talking About Weaknesses
Here’s something I’ve tried in 1:1s that builds trust fast:
Go first. Share your own weaknesses. Then invite your direct report to share theirs.
A few of mine:
- Technical atrophy: Since stepping fully into leadership, I worry that my technical skills are becoming obsolete. Tooling has changed, and I sometimes wonder what happens if I ever want—or need—to return to hands-on work.
- Speed over consensus: I have a tendency to jump to solutions quickly. It helps move things forward, but I sometimes step on toes or move too fast for others to feel included.
- Blind spots in detail: I value momentum so highly that I occasionally miss key details—like forgetting someone in a team thank-you message (yes, again). It’s embarrassing, but real.
Sharing like this—openly and without defensiveness—creates a space for growth. It models humility and invites collaboration.
Support Groups Matter
Here’s an honest truth: leadership can be lonely.
The further up the org chart you go, the fewer peers you have who understand what you’re carrying. And that emotional isolation can be heavy.
As an IC, I had a team. As a manager-of-managers, I still have a team—but fewer peers to vent with, swap ideas with, or just be human with. I think we all need that space.
So I’ll end with a question:
Where do you go for support? Who helps you carry the weight?
If you don’t have that yet—find it. A peer circle, a mentor, a community. The work is too important—and too personal—to carry alone.