unproven

a moment of truth in my career

Andrew Wyeth, Scuba, 1994

The best thing a boss ever did for me was to show complete faith in my ability to do a job I’d never done before.

Unfortunately, this is rare. It happens much less often than it should, which is why pivoting to a new career or getting promoted can feel like a Herculean feat. It requires someone in a position of power to take a chance on you.

Too often, we’re told we have to already be doing the job in order to get it, whether that means having the words “product manager” in your title or something more nebulous like performing “at that level.” It’s a chicken and egg problem because how do you do a job without being given the opportunity to do it? Let’s be real: people can’t just do a job on top of their existing job without executive sponsorship and more hours in the day.

When I was 24, I was working in brand communications at P&G. The brand organization was about to undergo a massive restructuring, and unknown to me, my role was on the chopping block. My manager reached out to leaders at the company I worked with in the past to ask if they had openings on their teams for me, and Tom, the global director of sales I supported in my last role, replied right away. We want her.

My manager told him he would have to transfer me into sales because the layoffs required a certain percentage in reduction of brand comms roles. I had never worked in sales before, never prospected or carried a quota or managed a book of business. I was completely untried, unproven, and unlike the typical sales person there, I did not hold a degree in chemical engineering. Yet, this director, who could’ve easily hired someone much more qualified, offered me the job of global customer development manager and said, “I think you can do it.”

I have never forgotten those words.

The job offer itself was great, but when I heard those words, I felt different. I saw myself in a new light because this director, who’s the absolute best at what he does and widely respected in the organization, believed in me. What he recognized was the value I brought as a person, not the words on my resume.

There’s a marketing concept at P&G called FMOT/SMOT. The first moment of truth (FMOT) is when a customer first encounters your brand. This could be online or in a TV commercial or an out-of-home ad. It’s an opportunity to form an initial impression of your brand. Then, there’s the second moment of truth (SMOT) when the same customer who saw the ad shops at Kroger or Target and sees Tide or Febreze or Crest toothpaste on the shelf. It’s another chance to make an impression, either reinforcing or changing their perception of the brand.

I think you can do it was a “moment of truth” for me. It didn’t just reinforce in my mind what a great leader Tom was (his personal brand), but it changed how I viewed myself. I saw opportunities that I never imagined possible, and it influenced the course of my career. Being embedded in a high-performing sales organization gave me the experience and skills to later transition to product marketing at a tech company.

Trust is earned through trust. The quickest way to erode trust in a relationship is to show distrust. Micromanaging is a sign of distrust, and so is its opposite: when someone volunteers to step up and take on a project only to be told by their manager not to worry about it. The message that gets conveyed is: I don’t trust that you can run with this and knock it out of the park. In romantic relationships, breaking into your partner’s phone or asking to know where they are 24/7 are obvious signs of distrust.

Asking someone to prove they are trustworthy—that they can do the job well or be faithful in the relationship—is a recipe for ruin. Of course, if they’ve already broken your trust, that’s a different story. But you should always start with a baseline of trust because people have a way of living up to your expectations. There’s a certain magic in the way others reflect our perception of them back to us. Assume good intentions, assume competence, assume fidelity as the starting point.

We are impressionable creatures. When a person of influence says you haven’t proven yourself capable of doing the job you want, you begin to think there is an enormous wall you have to scale. It seems daunting, near impossible, because it’s presented to you that way, and you become discouraged and lose confidence. But when a person of influence tells you they think you can do it and gives you a ladder, it might not be the easiest, smoothest path, but you feel good about your chances because they trust that you can do it. You already know it’s possible.

Who we are isn’t just a function of how we see ourselves but how others see us. As much as we’d like to not care what people think of us, we do. We can’t help it. Raising someone up can be transformative—and it doesn’t take much. I doubt Tom knows what a lasting impact those words had on me.