Twenty-five years ago, I stepped into my first leadership role with all the confidence of someone who had no idea what they were doing. I thought being a leader meant having all the answers, making the decisions, and being the smartest person in the room. I couldn't have been more wrong.

In those early days, I micromanaged everything. Avoided hard conversations until they blew up. And spent so much time in the weeds that I lost sight of the big picture. I made mistakes that kept me up at night (and a few that still make me wince).

Nobody hands you a manual when you become a leader for the first time. Suddenly, you're responsible for other people's success. And the skills that got you promoted won't necessarily help you lead. I learned these lessons the hard way…through trial and error, sleepless nights, and more apologies than I can count.

If you're stepping into leadership for the first time, consider this your shortcut. These are the lessons I wish someone had shared with me on day one.

Your job is to lead and support, not do everything yourself. Trust your team to handle things without constant oversight.

This was my biggest challenge.

I was promoted because I was good at my job, so I thought I should just keep doing that job (plus everyone else's).

I hovered over shoulders, rewrote emails, even redid work that was already good enough.

Eventually, I realized micromanaging doesn't just burn you out, it chips away at your team's confidence.

When you always step in, you're telling people you don't trust them. So they stop trying to grow because they know you'll change things anyway.

If you see this in yourself and want to change, start small.

Pick a task you usually do and hand it off. Give clear expectations and a deadline, then step back. It might not be done your way, and that's okay. Different isn't wrong.

Don't avoid uncomfortable topics. Tackle performance issues and conflict early, before they spread.

I once ignored a performance issue for six months because I didn't want to hurt someone's feelings. I told myself it wasn't that big of a deal. By the time I said something, the damage had already spread to the rest of the team.

And fixing it was ten times harder.

Tough conversations are like cavities. The longer you wait, the worse they get. Try to address problems within 48 hours. Be clear and focus on behavior (not personality).

Most important: treat it as a conversation, not a lecture.

This isn't about being harsh. It's about being honest early enough that people still have a chance to course correct.

When you're doing it out of genuine care for the person and the team, they can feel it.

Don't wait for formal reviews. Give regular, specific feedback that focuses on behavior, not vague traits. And don't forget to recognize what's working, too.

"Good job" doesn't help anyone. Neither does "You need to communicate better." I thought I was being nice by keeping things light and positive. But vague feedback isn't kind. It's confusing.

Helpful feedback needs three things: what happened, why it matters, and what to do next.

Instead of "great presentation," say, "Your use of customer stories brought the data to life. The CEO mentioned how clear it made the impact. Next time, consider adding stories like those to the executive summary too."

Actually, sometimes I still catch myself defaulting to "good job" when I'm rushing between meetings. Old habits die hard.

Try giving one specific piece of positive feedback every day. Your team needs examples of success, not just what to avoid.

One approach doesn't work for everyone. Take the time to learn what motivates each person on your team and adjust how you lead them.

I used to think fairness meant treating everyone the same. Then I worked with two people who were completely different:

Sarah loved public recognition and group brainstorming.

David preferred written notes and quiet time to think.

My one-size-fits-all style wasn't helping either of them.

A mentor once told me:

“Fair doesn't mean equal. It means giving people what they need to do their best work.”

Spend time upfront asking simple questions:

Keep track, and adjust your approach.

At one point, I actually kept a notebook with each person's preferences. Nothing fancy, just notes like "Mike - morning person, likes written summaries" or "Ana - needs processing time, don't put her on the spot."

This isn't favoritism. It's how you build trust.

Don't rush in with answers. Ask questions. Let people finish. Create space for ideas and concerns to surface.

Early on, I felt pressure to always know the answer. So I talked too much. I'd kick off meetings, fill in the gaps, and wrap up with my take. I thought I was helping. Instead, I was shutting people down.

I started aiming to listen most of the time. Honestly, it was harder than I expected. The silence felt uncomfortable at first.

A simple rule to apply: when someone brings you a problem, ask three questions before offering advice. Things like, “What options do we have?”, "Who do you think can address this best?", or "What would you do if I weren't here?"

You hired smart people. Let them show it.

Your job isn't to be the loudest voice. It's to make sure the right voices are heard.

It's easy to stay busy with urgent things. But if you want to lead well, you need time to reflect and plan.

I spent my first year reacting to whatever landed on my desk. I didn't stop to ask why things kept going off track. I was too deep in the mess to fix the system.

Now I schedule two hours a week just to think. No meetings, no emails.

I ask: What's working? What's not? What's coming next?

Sometimes I spend the whole time on one problem. Sometimes I jump between a dozen different thoughts. Both are fine.

Remember, you can't lead people somewhere if you don't know where you're going.

You're not expected to be perfect. You will make mistakes. You will doubt yourself. That's normal. Even the best leaders do.

What matters is how you respond.

I spent years trying to act like I had it all together. Never unsure. Never wrong. Never tired. It made me less effective. And less human.

The turning point came when I started owning my mistakes. I began saying "I don't know" and asking for help. I apologized when I messed up. And instead of losing respect, I gained trust.

One thing that helped me: keeping a simple journal. Each week, write down something you did well and something you'd do differently. It's a helpful reminder that growth is part of the job.

These seven lessons changed the way I lead, and the results my teams achieved. But knowing them isn't enough. Leadership is something you do, not just something you learn about.

So here’s your homework: Pick one lesson that stands out to you. Focus on it this week. When it becomes second nature, pick another. Step by step, you'll become the kind of leader people remember.

I still cringe when I think about how I ran those early team meetings. But my mistakes taught me what no book ever could. And I wouldn't trade them.

So start where you are.
Show up.
Learn.
Adjust.

That's how leadership begins.

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Until next time,
Justin