I thought about writing something when I reached five years.
If I had, it would’ve been filled with wins, growth spurts, and moments of pride.
But the draft sat untouched, yellowing in a folder labeled “someday.”
Time slipped by. Five became six, then seven. Then came the muddy middle.
I stepped into a senior-manager role, building teams, facing changes, wrestling with doubt.
Mistakes became unavoidable. It was a phase tangled with nostalgia and identity questions.
Now, ten years in.
Frustrations still knock, yet gratitude speaks louder.
Gratitude for the teams forged, moments shared, and tough problems solved together.
I’ve learned a lasting truth: a team reaches its greatest strength not through individual excellence alone, but through collective trust and genuine care.
Look left, look right. Nobody works alone.
Milestones prompt reflection: What stories remain when titles fade? Who stays beside us through challenging journeys?
Compressing ten years into a brief essay feels incomplete. Yet perhaps brevity holds the sharpest mirror: Numbers fade, but faces stay vivid.