It's not the first time I've led a project. But it's the first time it feels like a big deal.
For most of my career I worked as the only developer on a team, as co-owner of an agency, or as part of a very small engineering group. My day-to-day was leading projects, I just never framed it that way. It was simply the work, and there was nobody else to do it.
A lot has changed since I joined my current company. A startup at heart, but in the full swing of scaling up. The teams are still small, but the wider tech ecosystem is far more varied and complex. The processes are different, the ceremonies felt foreign to me for months, and the expectations are considerably higher.
I'm surrounded by an impressive pool of talent, and in my first year I've already been part of more than a few genuinely interesting projects. Something I've always valued here is the full-access approach. I don't just get handed tickets. I'm involved from discovery onward, even when I was the newest person in the room.
This time, though, is different. Somewhere in the process of growing into my role, it felt like this particular project needed to be. It's very frontend-heavy, but it reaches across the whole stack, with substantial foundational backend work and a few incursions into the team's BI layer. Taking more ownership felt natural, and it felt like the perfect chance to be thrown into the deep end. Sink or swim is one of my favourite approaches in situations like this.
Technically, the project sits right in my wheelhouse. I was aligned and excited from the start. And it's not just this iteration. I have a long-term vision for the feature, a sense of how it can expand into something far more powerful than the MVP we're building now. I know the challenges waiting on the horizon, and I know they span the entire stack. That's exactly what makes it enticing.
The harder part has been the operational side. Owning a project also means leading the charge on planning, chasing PR reviews, roadmapping tickets to sync deployments and hit deadlines, keeping everyone informed, and managing expectations. All of this is new to me, and all of it feels a little uncomfortable.
I don't mind the responsibility or the fuller plate. What I struggle with more is giving direction to colleagues who are usually the ones setting the route and telling me what they need. It feels awkward, and it pokes directly at my impostor syndrome. It made me question whether I was really ready to coordinate people operating at such a high level.
I decided to bite the bullet and jump in anyway. Yes, some of the calls and messages are awkward, and the pressure is real. I feel a lot of eyes on me, and a strong sense that I have something to prove. But I know this is a first exam I have to pass if I want to keep progressing. I can't let the first impression be of someone who buckled under the weight of the task.
This project is going to succeed, one way or another. There isn't a single version of events where I settle for something mediocre. I'm not chasing a bonus or a promotion. I'm holding myself to the highest standard because I refuse to crumble, or hide behind excuses, the first time I'm handed a genuinely high-stakes opportunity. That simply isn't an option.
I know there will be good days and bad ones. These projects almost never move forward without detours, small fires, problems to solve. But I also know I'll come out the other side far more confident than I went in. This is a chance to learn and grow that I can't afford to miss. I can already picture the moment it's unveiled, and I know it will be a success.