Stepping into a leadership role at Google Classroom was a turning point in my career. Before that transition, I had spent years building confidence as a Design Lead, feeling secure in my creativity, decision-making, and ability to contribute meaningful ideas to projects. I enjoyed solving design challenges, collaborating with talented people, and seeing my work positively impact users. Promotion into management initially felt like the natural next step, a recognition of my growth and accomplishments. Yet once I entered that new position, I quickly realized that leading people required a completely different set of skills—ones I had not fully developed or even anticipated needing.
The shift was far more difficult than I expected. Instead of focusing solely on design execution and creative problem-solving, I now had to guide teams, navigate interpersonal dynamics, manage expectations, and make decisions that affected not just projects but also people’s careers and well-being. The certainty I once carried began to fade. Tasks that had previously energized me were replaced with responsibilities that often left me second-guessing myself. For the first time in my professional life, I felt genuinely unsure of my abilities. I questioned whether I was capable of being the kind of leader others needed me to be. The confidence I had carefully built over the years suddenly felt fragile.
As the pressure and self-doubt grew, I found myself searching for something outside of work that could provide relief and perspective. I needed an outlet that had nothing to do with deadlines, meetings, or performance reviews. That search eventually led me to crochet. At first, it seemed simple enough—a relaxing hobby involving yarn and repetitive patterns. But the reality was much more challenging. My early attempts were full of tangled stitches, uneven shapes, and constant mistakes. I spent countless evenings watching tutorials online, replaying the same instructions repeatedly, and trying to understand patterns that looked almost like another language. There were many moments when frustration took over and I seriously considered quitting. It felt ridiculous that something as small as making a crocheted penguin could be so difficult.
Yet despite the setbacks, I kept going. Little by little, the confusion started to make sense. Each completed row brought a small sense of satisfaction. Every mistake corrected taught me patience. Over time, I realized that the process itself was changing the way I viewed challenges. Crochet reminded me that learning anything new often begins with discomfort and uncertainty. Progress is rarely immediate, and mastery does not happen overnight. The same persistence that helped me improve my crochet skills was something I could also apply to the struggles I faced professionally.
What surprised me most was how empowering those small victories became. Completing a project that once seemed impossible gave me a renewed sense of confidence. It reminded me that growth does not come from staying within familiar territory. Instead, it comes from continuing to try even when success feels far away. Through crochet, I rediscovered the value of patience, resilience, and curiosity. I began to understand that failure was not proof of inadequacy but simply part of the learning process.
That personal journey eventually became the inspiration behind The Woobles. More than just a crochet company, it represents the idea that people are capable of more than they often believe. Learning something unfamiliar can feel intimidating, but there is incredible fulfillment in pushing through that discomfort and discovering new abilities along the way. The Woobles encourages people to embrace creativity, experiment without fear, and allow themselves to be beginners. It is built on the belief that even small accomplishments can rebuild confidence and inspire larger transformations.