When I started my current role, my line manager confessed that although he had a good 15 years more field experience than me, he had significantly less managing experience. Refreshingly humble, he asked if we could work together on him managing our little team of two within the larger company and if I could be transparent with him if there were things I felt could be done better. We both stuck to that, and he’s been as transparent as I have if there’s something either of us feel would be more productive.
Since then, I could list off examples of fantastic team management from him at the drop of a hat, and today was no exception.
Today, I woke up late. It happens. I set my first alarm to turn off yesterday and back on tomorrow. It didn’t turn ‘back on tomorrow’ and in my wisdom, last night, I hadn’t thought to check. I woke up at my second alarm, bolted out of bed and rushed around with pets, dishes, clothes, make-up, chose to skip breakfast and sent a text to double check we still were OK to carpool today. I felt stupid, embarrassed, and frantic. I’m autistic, among other things, so unexpected changes in routine might be a small thing to most, but it would usually totally tank the rest of my day.
He arrived on time, as always. Steady and reliable. He made conversation on the way to work – acknowledging my morning mishap but ensuring I knew it was precisely that – just a minor mishap. It happens. I was on time; we were on time, and nothing was actually derailed. I’m not usually late, I wasn’t in trouble, and I didn’t look unprofessional. By the time we got to the office, what usually would have dysregulated me felt insignificant and I’d already been checked in, briefed for the day and caffeinated before we’d even hit the office floor.
My productivity doubled. I managed twice as much as I usually do, and not because I was trying to make up for anything, I felt capable and supported. And if I ever go back to managing teams again, I hope to be the same reassuring, steady force behind my team.

