ex-coder

I was a 13-year-old kid with a broken arm from a rollerblading accident and no real direction in life other than cracking jokes, riding my bike, and coasting by with minimum input. That summer before I started high school, my grandfather sat me down and asked the kind of question grandparents love to ask:

“So, what sport will you be doing when you start high school?”

He was a traditional man with conservative views. I don’t think he was expecting much – maybe netball, or tennis, or something equally “sensible.” He knew I didn’t always colour inside the lines. I had a well-known rebellious streak and didn’t exactly fit the mold of a “sweet, quiet girl.”

Sitting there, feeling a bit sorry for myself and being a bit otherwise (as my mum would say), I read through the high school brochure and picked the option I knew would ruffle the most feathers.

“Target shooting.”

At that point, I’d never held a rifle. I didn’t have a particular interest in guns. But part of me found joy in choosing the non-traditional. The unexpected.

My grandfather paused. Maybe he thought I was joking. Maybe he was trying to imagine how this slightly awkward, book-loving granddaughter of his would fit into a sport involving rifles and bullseyes.

I saw the doubt in his eyes.

“But nice girls don’t shoot guns,” he said.

I paused and reflected.

“But why not?” I challenged.

The more we debated, the more the idea grew on me. Why conform to the stereotype? Why not try something different? Why not go against the grain?

The conversation ended, and we carried on with our summer. Eventually, the cast came off my arm and I started my target shooting career. Not only did I like it – I grew to love it. The quiet focus. The precision. The incremental improvements. By the time I finished high school, I had represented my province for all five years, and my country for three. I was the sports valedictorian in my final year. Made it to the sports honour role. I’d built a name and a legacy for myself.

Looking back, that moment feels like a fitting metaphor for how I’ve approached my career in tech and especially how I’ve grown into leadership.

Because not everyone takes the expected path.
Not every leader is loud.
Not every success looks like a spotlight.

Over the years, I’ve worked across a wide range of roles. Developer, engineering manager, and now director of engineering. I’ve led high-performing payments and SRE teams full of senior engineers, and supported quieter, more junior teams just beginning to find their voice.

Along the way, I’ve learned (often the hard way) that there are many ways to lead. And many ways to win.

Here are five lessons I wish I’d known earlier in my career. They’re not silver bullets or step-by-step guides. Just principles I keep coming back to. Ones that have helped me grow, lead, and stay true to myself, even when the noise of the industry said otherwise.

1. Curiosity: Don’t Just Tick the Boxes

When I look back at the times I’ve grown the most in my career, curiosity has always been right there in the mix.

As a junior developer, I didn’t always know what I was doing and let’s be honest, most of us didn’t. But I made it a habit to peek into adjacent codebases, ask questions even if I felt silly, and poke around in parts of the system that weren’t technically “my problem.” I said yes to projects that scared me a little. I listened when more experienced engineers explained something, then went away and tried to build my own mental model of it.

I didn’t do it to impress anyone. I did it because I was curious. I wanted to understand the why behind the what. And even now, that trait has stuck with me.

At the Director level, curiosity looks a bit different. I’m not necessarily reading pull requests every day or building out features myself. But I am constantly asking:

• Why is this process the way it is?
• What’s blocking this team’s momentum?
• What assumptions are we making here?
• How does this decision ripple across the rest of the org?

I ask those questions not to be difficult, but because I want us to get to the best outcome and to keep learning as we go.

One of the traps I see folks fall into (especially high achievers) is getting stuck in “checklist mode.” Complete the ticket. Attend the meeting. Ship the feature. Repeat.

But curiosity is what makes the work come alive. It’s what turns a task into an opportunity. It’s how you grow faster than your job title.

Whether you’re an junior IC1 just starting out or a staff engineer mentoring others, make space for curiosity. Read that technical document. Ask the awkward question. Sit in on a meeting outside your team. Shadow someone for an hour. You might not get a bullet point out of it for your CV, but you will get better. And that compounds over time.

2. Challenge: Ask More, Assume Less

There’s a version of “challenging” that sounds aggressive, confrontational even. That’s not what I mean.

For me, challenge is about care. It’s about believing that something (a process, a person, a team, even yourself) can grow and being willing to ask the uncomfortable questions to help that happen.

Earlier in my career, I used to hold back. If something didn’t make sense, I assumed I was just missing something obvious. If I saw a process that felt inefficient or a system that had weird workarounds, I figured there was a reason and that it wasn’t my place to question it.

Over time, I’ve realised that challenge isn’t about calling things out. It’s about calling things up. It’s about saying:
“Hey, is this still serving us?”
“What’s the risk if we keep doing it this way?”
“Could we be doing this better?”

It’s also about self-reflection. Asking yourself:
“Why did that conversation frustrate me?”
“What kind of leader do I want to be in this moment?”
“What’s one small thing I can do differently next time?”

At the team level, this shows up in retrospectives, incident reviews, and planning sessions. As a leader, it shows up in one-on-ones helping people reflect honestly, and supporting them to challenge themselves in ways that feel safe but meaningful.

I try to model this by being open about my own growth edges — the areas I’m still figuring out, the decisions I’ve second-guessed, the feedback I’ve received. It invites others to do the same.

Challenge doesn’t mean tearing things down. It means holding up a mirror — kindly, consistently, and with a mindset of better is always possible.

3. Connect: Build Relationships That Matter

Early in my career, I thought “networking” meant going to awkward meetups and making small talk with strangers. I hated it. It felt inauthentic, performative. Like I was supposed to be selling a version of myself instead of just being me.

What I’ve learned since then is that connection matters but not in the way I originally thought.

The most important relationships in my career have been the ones built on trust, not transactions.
The mentor who challenged my thinking and helped me level up technically.
The colleague who encouraged me to apply for a role I didn’t feel ready for.
The person who said my name in a room full of opportunity even when I wasn’t there to hear it.

As a leader now, I see how vital it is to help others build those connections too. Whether it’s nudging someone toward a mentor, introducing teams across orgs, or amplifying someone’s work in a meeting, connection is one of the most powerful gifts we can give.

And it’s not always loud. Quiet leaders are often excellent connectors. We notice things. We remember that someone had a particular interest, or that they solved a tricky problem others might face later. We join the dots. And we quietly open doors.

Connection also works both ways. It’s not just about what you get, but what you give. I try to show up for others, especially those earlier in their journey in the same way I wish someone had for me.

And sometimes, that connection is as simple as a message that says:
“I saw what you did there — great work.”
“I know that meeting didn’t go how you hoped — I’ve been there too.”
“Let me introduce you to someone who might help.”

It costs almost nothing. But it means everything.

4. Core Values: The North Star That Changes With You

I’ll be the first to admit: early in my career, I didn’t always know what my core values were. I thought the job, the company, the work itself would fill in the gaps. I focused on the “what”. The title, the projects, the technical skills. But the “why” took me a bit longer to figure out.

It wasn’t until I started encountering different work environments (some great, some less so) that I realised how important it was to identify my own values. Without them, I found myself frustrated, lost, and burned out.

Now, when I reflect on what has kept me grounded as I moved from individual contributor into a people-leading role like director, I know that my values have evolved with me. And that’s okay. They’ve changed in ways I never expected, based on the experiences I’ve had, both good and bad.

As an individual contributor, it was all about curiosity, learning, and getting things done. I was driven by a desire to grow, to prove myself. But as I took on more leadership, I realised how important people became. It wasn’t just about technical success anymore. It was about building trust, creating space for others to grow, and being a leader who followed through.

For me now, my core values are around:

• Integrity — being transparent and honest with myself and others.
• Empathy — understanding and supporting the needs of my teams.
• Continuous growth — not just for myself, but for everyone I work with.

But what’s just as important is acknowledging that your values will change over time and they should. What was important to you five years ago might not be as critical now, and that’s a sign of growth, not failure.

For instance, a bad experience with a manager early in my career made me realise the value of being approachable. It made me want to be available for my team in a way I hadn’t experienced before. I wanted to be the manager who followed through on conversations, who didn’t just listen but took action.

So, my advice? Don’t wait for everything to line up before figuring out your core values. It’s okay if they shift as you grow. What’s important is that you have them — and that you let them guide your decisions. They’ll be your compass when the going gets tough.

5. Community: Surround Yourself with the Right People — and Be One

When I think about the most pivotal moments of my career, it’s not just the big projects or the hard-earned promotions that come to mind. It’s the people. The community I’ve built around me. And the one I’ve tried to create for others.

In the early days, I wasn’t always great at networking. I thought I had to do everything on my own. I believed that success meant “making it” without needing to rely on others and that asking for help somehow meant I wasn’t strong enough or capable enough.

But what I’ve learned over the years is that community is where the magic happens. Your network isn’t just for landing your next job or advancing your career. It’s a network of support, ideas, and growth. It’s the people who show up for you when you need them, even when you’re not in the room. It’s the person who challenges your thinking and helps you see a different perspective.

Building that community – and being an active part of it – is just as important as the work itself. It’s about being a mentor, being a champion for someone else’s work, being the person who’s happy to give time and advice, even if you don’t directly benefit from it.

But it’s not all about what you can get out of the community. It’s about what you can give back.

For me, that’s meant creating space for others to grow, especially those who are earlier in their careers. I try to be the mentor I never had. To be the one who steps in when no one else will, the one who challenges others to think bigger, to aim higher, to take that next leap even when they’re not sure they’re ready.

Whether it’s through formal mentoring or just showing up for someone in a casual chat, creating that community of support isn’t just a feel-good thing. It’s essential for success.

So, my challenge to you? Invest in the people around you. Find the network that helps you grow and thrive. And when you can, help others do the same. Be the person who speaks up for someone else, who helps open doors, who sees potential in others — even when they don’t see it in themselves.

Because leadership, at its core, is about helping others rise. And that’s a community worth building.

Conclusion: Stay True to Your Target

As I reflect on my journey from target shooting to tech leadership, one thing becomes clear: leadership doesn’t need to be loud to be impactful. Quiet influence, grounded in curiosity, challenge, connection, values, and community, is every bit as powerful — maybe even more so.

You don’t have to follow the expected path. You don’t have to fit the mold of the traditional “leader” in order to lead effectively. It’s about aligning your work with your values, building a supportive network around you, and always staying curious and open to growth.

At the end of the day, the best leaders are the ones who know their target, stay focused, and help others hit theirs too. And sometimes, the quietest leaders make the biggest impact.