When I write these reflections, my goal isn’t just to share how we grew and changed as a company – it’s also personal. Every Thursday, writing helps me pause, look back at mistakes, notice what I’m doing differently now, and think about the next steps to take. Often, it’s only after writing that I realize: my perspective might not be perfect. But without putting it into words, I might never have questioned myself at all.
There are numerous books written on this topic today, and LinkedIn is full of posts about how diverse a team should be: you need different people, people who think differently. But no one ever asked, How does the leader feel working with a team as colorful as a rainbow?
For me, the first time our team grew from eight people to twelve, then fifteen, it was overwhelming.
When Growth Turned Scary
Suddenly, I was hearing complaints about small things I never expected: “Why are the pastries bad? Why don’t we buy better ones?” At team buildings, half the team would join, half wouldn’t. Some weren’t interested in this, others didn’t care about that.
A year earlier, things were simple. We sat by the Kaunas Lagoon, shared pizzas, sometimes even celebrated with a bottle of whiskey – and everyone, absolutely everyone, wanted to be there. It didn’t matter who was the best performer, who was struggling, who was a girl or a guy. We were just a group of people who wanted to be together.
But as the team grew, the first “I don’t want to,” “I can’t,” “I’m not interested” started appearing.
And my reaction? Panic. What’s wrong? Why don’t they want to join? Am I doing something wrong? Are the activities boring? Should I organize something else? How can I make sure every single person participates?
That was my inner perfectionist talking. My desire to please everyone. I worried about those who didn’t come, and worse, I started forcing participation. Team building became mandatory.
Not because I wanted to punish anyone, but because I was afraid. Afraid someone would feel left out, detached from the group. In my head, if you didn’t show up, you weren’t part of the team. A very naïve way of thinking, but that’s where I was at the time.
From Fear to Frustration
Back then, our team felt like a family. We shared personal stories, asked each other for advice. But with growth, things changed – it became colder, more formal, less personal. And ironically, it wasn’t those who skipped team buildings who detached. It was me.
I realized that closeness was no longer expected, perhaps even unwelcome. And as the team grew, so did the need for standardization. Before, I’d write personalized Christmas messages or pick gifts uniquely for each person. But with more people, I couldn’t know everyone as deeply anymore.
And when fear isn’t managed well, it turns into frustration. I got angry. Angry at those who didn’t want to come. Angry at those who didn’t appreciate my efforts. How could you resist attending a free event with food and fun? I felt unappreciated. And I blamed them instead of recognizing what was really happening.
Why It’s Easier With “The Same”
Looking back, those moments revealed what leadership is really about: not tasks, but people.
I eventually realized that nobody should ever be forced to attend a team-building event. They should be invited. And whether they join or not doesn’t define their value as a team member. What defines it is their work, their results, and their professionalism.
I also understood that every company has that one person who never seems satisfied. The one who quietly packs company-ordered snacks into their backpack at the end of the day. The one who gossips about the boss. And you know what? That’s normal. The bigger the team, the more opinions you’ll hear, and as a leader, you can’t let it consume you.
What matters more is building shared values. A common understanding of what “finished work” looks like, what quality means, and the belief that everyone should take that “one step further.”
Growing as a Leader
Most of the time, there’s nothing wrong with the person who’s different. And nothing wrong with me either. We’re just different.
With time, with more experience, I became more patient. More accepting of people who see the world differently. (Though I still draw the line when quality of work suffers, that’s non-negotiable.)
And I also learned something else: to stop guessing. To speak directly to a person and express my thoughts. To ask questions openly instead of trying to read their mind.
That’s not something I’ve mastered yet, but it’s something I continue to work on every day.