You get the thing. The promotion, the lead role, the move onto the platform team. For about a week it is wonderful. Then it turns, and by the second month you are having a thought you would not say out loud: you were better at the last job, and somebody has clearly made a mistake.
Nobody warns people about this, so here it is. A step up reliably makes you feel worse for a while, and the depth of the dip is roughly the size of the step.
The cause is arithmetic rather than character. In the job you left, most of your week went on things you had done hundreds of times. You were quick, the work was good, and that competence was the floor you stood on without noticing it. The new job removes the floor. Now most of your week is made of things you have done twice, and the parts you are genuinely excellent at have shrunk to an afternoon. Your ability did not change. The ratio of familiar to unfamiliar changed, and that ratio is most of what feeling capable is made from.
It helps to know what you were chosen for. Nobody is promoted on readiness, because nobody is ready. People are promoted on trajectory. Somebody watched you learn three difficult things and concluded you would learn the fourth, which means you are being paid for a couple of quarters to be visibly average while that happens.
A few things shorten it. Keep one piece of work you are properly good at, a few hours a week, so you have somewhere to stand on a bad Thursday. Tell your manager early and without drama that you expect a slow start, and ask what good looks like at six months rather than inventing a standard of your own. And write down in the first week the list of things you cannot do yet, because in four months you will not remember being bad at them and you will have no evidence you improved.
Then measure yourself against yourself in March, not against whoever held the role before you. They were three years in. Comparing your opening weeks with somebody else's settled competence is a contest you have arranged in advance to lose.
– Asael Shinder
