A conversation with a friend recently made me realise something.
The work I do today spans a surprisingly wide range of responsibilities. Product thinking, project management, eCommerce operations, process improvement, analytics, content, systems, stakeholder management, and occasionally getting hands-on when needed.
It made me wonder:
“Am I becoming a full-stack product manager?”
Then another question followed shortly after.
“Or am I actually lost?”
Looking Back At A Previous Chapter
When I reflected on periods of my career where I felt most alive professionally, one particular chapter stood out.
At the time, I was considered a high performer. There were opportunities to travel, work with global teams, participate in larger projects, and learn from experienced leaders.
From the outside, it looked like career growth.
And it was.
I learned:
- how product teams operate
- how agile delivery works
- how to influence without authority
- how to navigate large organisations
- how to think beyond local markets
I also had something I rarely think about today.
Margin.
I had enough financial buffer to:
- donate to rescue cases without overthinking
- spend without calculating every decision
- feel optimistic about future opportunities
Most importantly, I had people I could learn from.
Not managers who micromanaged.
Managers who trusted me.
They gave me autonomy to figure things out myself, but when things went sideways, they stood behind me.
Looking back, that support mattered more than I realised.
The Part I Conveniently Forgot
For a moment, I almost romanticised that period.
Then I remembered the other side.
The constant notifications.
The Outlook messages.
The Teams alerts.
The politics.
The pressure.
The feeling that work was always waiting somewhere in the background.
There were moments when my body would react to notifications before my mind even processed them.
The growth was real.
The stress was real too.
Both can be true at the same time.
What I Actually Miss
This reflection helped me separate what I genuinely miss from what I do not.
I miss:
- learning from capable people
- meaningful challenges
- professional growth
- financial confidence
- career momentum
- autonomy
I do not miss:
- constant firefighting
- unnecessary politics
- always being “on”
- notification anxiety
- carrying pressure indefinitely
The mistake was assuming they came as one package.
They don’t.
A Realisation About Work
One question that surprised me was:
“If someone offered you a stable role, good salary, supportive manager, flexibility, and reasonable workload, but you would be doing roughly the same thing for the next five years, would you take it?”
My answer was immediate.
Yes.
That answer taught me something.
I am not chasing endless growth.
I am not chasing prestige.
I am not trying to become a corporate superhero.
I am tired of uncertainty.
There is a difference.
The Kind Of Work I Enjoy
Another pattern emerged.
I enjoy:
- solving problems
- creating structure
- improving systems
- building things people enjoy
- turning messy situations into clear ones
What I do not enjoy is becoming the permanent clean-up crew.
There is a difference between:
- building a better process
and
- repeatedly fixing problems that should not exist.
One feels creative.
The other feels like paying interest on someone else’s debt.
The Role I Am Tired Of Playing
One answer came out almost instantly.
I am tired of being:
- the fixer
- the clean-up hitter
- the person called when things become messy
Not because I cannot do it.
Because I often can.
The issue is that competence attracts responsibility.
And over time, responsibility accumulates.
At some point, you stop asking:
“Can I handle this?”
and start asking:
“Why am I always the one handling this?”
Money Is Not The Goal
This was another uncomfortable realisation.
When asked what I secretly envy, the answer that came out first was:
Money.
Not because I want luxury.
Not because I want status.
Because money represents freedom.
Freedom to:
- donate when needed
- renovate without anxiety
- travel occasionally
- choose opportunities rather than depend on them
I do not think I want wealth.
I think I want breathing room.
Maybe I Am Not Lost
For a while, I thought I was struggling with career direction.
Now I am not so sure.
Perhaps I am not asking:
“What should I become next?”
Perhaps I am asking:
“What conditions allow me to do my best work while still having a life?”
Looking back, the happiest professional periods were not necessarily the easiest.
But they shared a few common ingredients:
- meaningful work
- capable people
- financial margin
- autonomy
- room to learn
- enough stability to think beyond survival
Maybe that is what I am searching for now.
Not a return to the past.
Not a reinvention.
Just a future that combines growth with peace.
To be continued.
