We live in a culture that avoids discomfort with a vehemence that feels almost pathological. I get it, really, because being uncomfortable isn't fun. But it’s a real shame, because discomfort is often the only place where real growth happens.
As I've been growing in my career, I've cemented that to truly make progress I have to be okay with some discomfort and the possibility of looking "stupid".
Last Friday, I was monitoring a service rebuild. It was failing to deploy at a specific step, but then succeeding if I manually re-ran it. Technically, according to Jenkins, the build was 'passing' and I could have just walked away. But the error logs pointed to a build timeout and suggested looking into Argo and our Kubernetes pods.
Well, I knew those are words I've heard before, but knew none of my next steps. So, I went to our general engineering channel and posted about it, asking for guidance. At first, someone posted a link to the argo dashboard with no commentary.
My palms immediately began to sweat. I got into my head: They think I know enough to use this link, and it’s embarrassing to admit I don't. What if I look like an idiot? But then came the realization: the temporary discomfort of feeling unknowledgeable wasn't more important than fixing the problem and actually learning.
So, I took a deep breath and responded something like, "thank you for the resource but I actually don't know enough about the tool to be able to determine this problem on my own. Could I have some additional guidance?"
By this point others had joined the conversation and were being lovely and helpful, posing suggestions and speculating on the issue with each other. I felt overwhelmed and not-at-all-helpful reading the thread but chimed in where I could offer context. In the end, my service was out of memory and a PR was made to bump it and my hands were so sweaty I could've skated on them.
But I did it. I posted the question and admitted I didn't know what I was doing. It’s interesting, when it comes to frontend work, I have a much easier time raising my hand when I'm stuck. Probably because I already have a strong foundation there. But diving into backend and infrastructure, where I'm working hard to internalize basic concepts, feels entirely different. Even with the nerves, even with the ridiculously sweaty palms, I knew I needed help and so I asked for it.
To some people, this is not at all new or surprising because they already do this every day. But, if you're someone like me who can get nervous that people will look down on you, or think you are stupid or not fit for the job, just know that it's highly unlikely. And, honestly, even if that does happen, who cares? It's better than letting a broken build slip through your fingers.
So, the next time you feel so nervous about doing The Thing, I say take a deep breath and give it a try. Feel the discomfort and grow from it.
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