Working as a manager, I have learned that embracing vulnerability strengthens trust within my team. I want to share a story about one of the times I felt most incompetent, a familiar feeling from my Ph.D. days.
When I was a consultant, I was hired to develop a recommendation system for a large retail company. Despite my extensive knowledge of econometrics and comfort with supervised and unsupervised algorithms, I had never worked on a recommender system before. I was unfamiliar with its core techniques, evaluation methods, and the philosophy behind personalized experiences. To make matters worse, the problem was enormous: millions of users and tens of thousands of items to recommend. In 2016, the tools to tackle such challenges were limited, and I wasn’t well-versed in any of them.
I vividly remember how nervous I was when I first started working on the project. I struggled to keep my anxiety in check, and the entire team felt immense pressure. The project was expensive and critical for the client, who demanded early results. We faced numerous obstacles: an unprepared data platform, an understaffed team, and only a couple of us working full-time on the initiative.
I’ve always handled pressure well, but this situation stretched me to my limits. Early mornings, long commutes, and little time for exercise all compounded my stress. For the first time in years, I began to lose sight of a core belief, that my value as a person was not tied to professional success. This shift triggered a mild but persistent case of impostor syndrome.
To regain control, I turned to reading to center myself. I started with the “bible” on Recommender Systems, but my mind was too scattered to absorb it, a clear sign of impending burnout. Realizing that technical knowledge wasn’t the solution, I redirected my focus to mental well-being.
My wife, a child psychologist, played a pivotal role in easing my anxiety. She reminded me of who I was beyond my job and helped me stop taking myself so seriously. Her support gave me a healthier perspective on my work. She encouraged me to return to philosophy, which had always been a source of comfort.
I typically read two or three books at once. At that time, I alternated between works on Buddhism and Stoicism. Stoicism, in particular, brought me relief. I read How to Be Free_ by Epictetus, a book I often recommend. It grounded me and helped reset my mindset.
While Buddhism offered valuable insights, its religious and mystical elements didn’t resonate with me. Instead, I found a more practical approach in Dan Harris’s 10% Happier. This book strips away the spiritual aspects of meditation, promising modest gains, at most a 10% boost in happiness, which felt achievable to me.
Motivated by the book, I began practicing mindfulness meditation. I used my long morning commutes to meditate, gaining clarity and perspective for the day ahead. Beyond reading and meditation, I also opened up to my colleagues. Andres and Javi, who had been mere coworkers, became close friends as we bonded over shared challenges and pressures.
This experience taught me several invaluable lessons about managing pressure and understanding myself. First, I learned to allow myself to fail. I am human, and my professional performance does not define my worth. Second, I recognized how essential physical activity is for my well-being. I had always been active, but the demands of an IT-heavy job were taking a toll. I also found that I don’t need to disconnect from work entirely, as long as I incorporate regular exercise, I can stay engaged without feeling overwhelmed. Finally, I learned the importance of being open about my worries and insecurities. Vulnerability deepened my social bonds and created a more supportive environment.
In summary, dedicating time to self-reflection and self-awareness has been one of the most transformative practices in my life. By separating my thoughts from my identity, I have found greater peace and a deeper appreciation for both my strengths and limitations.