Endings & Beginnings
We don’t pay enough attention to endings and beginnings. Or maybe, we pay the wrong kind of attention to them.
Here’s an ending: A tech leader I know has been the go-to coder, problem-solver, product innovator person since his startup launched 2 years ago.
Now he’s the CTO, which is what he’s always wanted. And even though it’s a welcome change, he needs to show a little love to both his ending and his new beginning. Otherwise he risks staying tethered to his old role of being the problem-solver and doer rather than enabling others to solve problems and do. If imposter syndrome kicks in, he may take action that makes him look good rather than doing what’s right for his team and company. And all the things he needs to do—scaling up, building a product vision, and hiring like mad—will suffer.
Endings like changing a role or organization, going from school to work or living in a bubble for over a year, require closure.
Closure could be any ritual or right of passage that causes you to reflect on what this change means in your life. Like a graduation ceremony, it’s an important part of the process. Here are some things my clients have done to bring closure around a major career move or event:
Set clear boundaries: the end date is the end date. If people ask you stick around a bit longer or fill two roles at the same time while they find your replacement or to “be on call”, protect your boundary ferociously. Being wishy-washy doesn’t serve you or anyone else.
Send a heartfelt acknowledgement to your team or anyone impacted by your ending. Let each person know the difference they’ve made for you.
Plan a 1 to 2 week break between the ending and beginning. Use some of this time to reflect on what you’ll miss and what you look forward to in your next thing.
New beginnings require an abundance of self-compassion and curiosity.
Brene Brown has a phrase for dealing with the discomfort of new beginnings. She calls it the FFT: F****** First Time.
She says there are important things to do when you’re in an FFT that are grounded in self-compassion:
Name it—”This is the first time I’ve ever (fill in the blank). THAT’s why I’m so overwhelmed and cranky. It’s an FFT!”
Normalize it—This is exactly what being new at something feels like. You should NOT know exactly what to do because you’ve never done it before.
Put it into perspective—This feeling is not permanent. You’re not still crawling around on the floor like a baby because eventually you learned how to walk, right?
Reality-check your expectations—This may be uncomfortable for a while because you’re in the learning. Your toddler self? Sometimes you laughed and sometimes you cried when you fell but you didn’t give up. After TONS of practice, you got it. And now you’re a genius walker.
The new beginning also needs you to lead with curiosity, which may have you asking:
What don’t I know that I need to know?
What support do I need to get traction?
Who can I count on for guidance or mentorship?
This works. Just ask Kelly. She’s a young woman I recently worked with who immigrated to the U.S. from Vietnam when she was eight years old. On her first day of 3rd grade she spoke almost no English. Other kids laughed at how she talked and she dreaded when she had to post her work in the classroom because she felt so self-conscious about not getting it right.
This was a serious FFT. I asked her how she got through it.
She said she asked a LOT of questions and she listened.
F****** brilliant.
Resources:
Give Brene Brown’s Podcast a listen: Unlocking Us—Brene on FFT’s and more Brene on revisiting FFT’s.
The classic book on endings and beginnings is Transitions by Bill Bridges.