From Doing to Knowing: The mind shift that creeps up on you

Jun 26, 2025

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There usually comes a time in your engineering career when your technical skills suddenly feel insufficient. It's rarely about troubleshooting an incident or delivering a project beyond your grasp. It's a far more subtle change that nudges you out of your comfort zone and makes you quietly question your capabilities.

For me, this came in the form of a promotion.

A Promotion Should Feel Good, Right?

You might be thinking, "What's wrong with a promotion? That's awesome!" And typically, you'd be right. But let me explain.

I'd spent about two years in Level 1 support. During that time, I naturally gravitated towards networking issues. Most of my fellow support engineers were sysadmins, and for them, "networking" often meant little more than "reboot the router and cross your fingers." No one else seemed to have the appetite to dig into the complexities.

So I leaned in. Let's be honest, I enjoyed it. I had a degree in networking, so of course, I wanted to leverage my skills.

Over time, every networking ticket was passed across to me. I loved it; it carved out a clear niche for me. While others were resetting passwords and untangling O365 permissions, I was deep in packet captures and wrestling with routing tables.

My dedication eventually paid off. I was offered a promotion, skipping a level entirely, and landed a Level 3 role on the network team. I was ecstatic. I had a new team, a new desk, and a real title that finally said I was more than "just support.”

I didn't anticipate the entirely different kind of pressure that the new title brought.

The Unspoken Learning Curve

On one hand, there was the technical learning curve. I expected this. Moving from Level 1 support, even as the "networking guy," to a dedicated Level 3 network engineer meant a massive jump in complexity. I was suddenly dealing with complex routing protocols, advanced firewall policies, and designing scalable network architectures – concepts far beyond rebooting a router. I was diving deep into documentation, labbing up configurations, and often feeling out of my depth with the sheer volume of new tech I had to get comfortable with. Never mind about achieving the certifications!

But then, there was the other learning curve, which no one talks about. I'd always measured my value on output: tickets closed, resolution times, and how quickly I could get a user back online.

But in this new role, the importance of those metrics faded. Speed wasn't the goal. My new expectation wasn't to fix minor issues, but to design solutions, lead projects, and provide "senior" insights.

I was frustrated, even ashamed, that I wasn't clearing my queue like before. It rattled me and just gave the impostor syndrome a louder platform.

One day, I was venting to a teammate, and he turned to me and said something that has stuck in my head ever since:

"You're not paid to just close tickets anymore. You're paid to know things."

From Doing to Thinking

Before the promotion, I could smash through my tickets. There was a dopamine hit from "getting under 30 tickets" and getting instant feedback on my performance. Then all of a sudden, my 9-5 (though it was more 9-9 back then) was filled with project planning, intricate design decisions, and deep troubleshooting where the answers weren't always obvious, or even immediately available.

Because I'd been the "network guy" on the help desk, the escalations didn't stop. People still leaned on me. But, I also had project responsibilities, so I spent significantly more time in customer meetings, dissecting business requirements, and providing more strategic value.

The pace had fundamentally shifted, and the metrics had changed, but my internal compass was still stuck on the old ways of working. I kept chasing those quick wins, the easy closes. I felt unproductive despite tackling harder, far more meaningful work. And I was scared to admit when I didn't know something because, wasn't "knowing" precisely what I was now being paid for.

Embracing "I Don't Know"

It took time, but I eventually realised that being senior doesn't mean possessing all the answers. It means knowing how to figure things out. It means switching between the minor details and the broad strategic view. It means being able to stay calm when everyone else is panicking, because you've learned to sit with ambiguity comfortably (I'm still working on this one).

That was the true transformation: moving from doing to thinking, from quick fixes to long-term impact, from being the person with immediate answers to becoming the one who asks better questions.

I began to understand that my job wasn't about being the fastest anymore but about being effective. Strategic. Thoughtful. Surprisingly, this understanding made me appreciate the junior roles even more. They keep things moving. But the senior space? That's where you start to learn.

If You're In That Space Now

You're not alone if you find yourself in this uncomfortable limbo, no longer the fresh-faced newbie, but not quite feeling "senior" either.

That discomfort isn't a sign of failure; it's called growth, and once you embrace it, it feels fantastic.

You don't need to know everything. Stay curious, be honest about what you don't understand (yet), and keep learning. The more you own your knowledge gaps, the more confident you'll become in what you do know.

This journey from "doing" to "knowing" is common.

What's been your biggest mindset shift? Share in the comments!