When I first transitioned into leadership, I assumed my main role was solving problems—fixing what was broken, smoothing out conflicts, and having answers at the ready. I vividly remember an early team meeting where tensions ran high over missed deadlines. Instinctively, I jumped in with a clear, prescriptive plan: we’d shuffle tasks, reprioritize objectives, and hold daily check-ins to "fix" the issue immediately.

Initially, it felt like the right move. I saw nodding heads and received appreciative Slack messages afterward. But as weeks passed, something felt off. Despite improved timelines, I noticed team morale quietly slipping. Conversations during check-ins felt forced, superficial. People began to wait for my direction rather than proactively addressing issues.

It took a candid chat with a senior engineer to realize what I'd overlooked. "I appreciate your solutions," she said gently, "but I don’t feel ownership anymore. It feels like you're stepping in before we have a chance to figure things out."

That was my wake-up call. By rushing to offer solutions, I had unintentionally disempowered my team. I realized leadership isn't primarily about solving problems myself—it's about creating space for others to find their own answers. So, I stepped back. I started listening more deeply, asking more questions instead of immediately jumping in. Questions like: "What do you think the root cause is?" or "How would you approach this if resources weren't limited?" became my new default.

The change wasn't instantaneous. Initially, there was hesitation. But gradually, I saw confidence bloom. Meetings shifted from status reports to genuine discussions, debates, and shared decision-making. Instead of stepping forward with answers, I watched talented individuals step up, take risks, and grow remarkably fast.

Now, when someone comes to me with a challenge, my first instinct isn't to fix it—it's curiosity. I pause. I ask thoughtful questions. I trust that my team can navigate complexity, innovate solutions, and own their outcomes. Ironically, by doing less "solving," I'm doing far more meaningful leading. The real reward isn't smoother projects or better numbers (though those came naturally)—it’s seeing my team become the leaders I always knew they could be.