Author: Andrei Bilog

Most of the time, when I write, I lean heavily on science, research, and evidence-based insights. This article feels different. It’s unusual for me to write strictly about my own experience without graphs, studies, or citations from physiology and biotech. But as my leadership course at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign (UIUC) comes to a close, I’ve been challenged to reflect on my own growth—and that reflection has shown me how uncertainty, which I often tried to avoid, has been shaping me in ways I didn’t expect.

Back in January, I received a promotion at work. Of course, I was happy—I was getting paid more. But I know this may sound cheesy to some people: money cannot buy happiness, or purpose, or certainty—or in this case, peace of mind.

The reality of the promotion was far more complicated. My role changed significantly, but without a new title or clear direction. In my new, more ambiguous position, I noticed a shift in my sense of identity and ownership. I was no longer tied to specific outcomes, and at times it felt like my relevance in the department was diminishing. While I had both the availability and capability to contribute, the lack of consistent assignments left me requesting work from directors and VPs rather than being sought out.

This created an uncomfortable mix of opportunity and frustration. It connected directly to the human system dynamics framework we studied in class—especially the themes of ownership, perceived loss of power, and wavering confidence described in Bisoux’s article.

One experience with my director stood out as a turning point. In a meeting, I defaulted to expressing frustration about my unclear responsibilities instead of using the moment to align expectations and show leadership maturity. Later, I realized my response mirrored the “seeker” archetype we studied in class—wanting clarity, but not yet channeling my influence productively.

To repair this, I sent an apology and scheduled weekly check-ins. That shift allowed me to move closer to the “aware” archetype, where self-awareness becomes the foundation of self-leadership. By reframing the situation, I could use feedback as a tool for growth rather than a signal of failure. That experience showed me how the concepts we learn in class aren’t abstract—they directly shape how I respond to uncertainty and build trust with leaders.

Over time, I noticed how much of my role involves bridging between technical staff, leadership, and outside stakeholders. These interactions connect directly to the “horizontal” and “stakeholder” boundaries we’ve been discussing in class. At the same time, I sometimes feel insecure when conversations around “titles” arise—it reminds me that my identity at work feels ambiguous.

But the class has helped me reframe this. My ability to influence and connect is not diminished by the lack of a formal title. Leadership isn’t always about hierarchy—it’s about presence, awareness, and purpose. Even during weeks when meetings are delayed or priorities shift, I can still practice leadership through preparation, self-awareness, and bridging connections across teams.

My situation with the Vice President highlighted another leadership challenge: hierarchy. Greater power distance can make it harder for those furthest from the leader to be heard. I felt this virtual distance with the VP, but psychological safety with my director gave me the confidence to raise concerns.

That dynamic reinforced how important it is for leaders to create safe environments where difficult issues can be voiced constructively. Interestingly, this tied back to my director’s feedback that I need to speak up more. When I asked her about the value I bring to the department, she described me as a liaison—someone who bridges gaps, supports two teams, and adapts to side projects. That directly reflects the module’s emphasis on purpose and meaningful work. Even in ambiguity, my role connects to the larger purpose of collaboration and building trust.

Uncertainty hasn’t magically disappeared from my work. I still feel the tension of not knowing, the insecurity of a missing title, and the ambiguity of undefined boundaries. But my leadership course at UIUC has reframed how I approach these moments.

Uncertainty isn’t a void—it’s a space where adaptation, reflection, and growth take root. It’s where I’ve learned to rely less on rigid definitions of success and more on my ability to influence, connect, and stay self-aware.

This isn’t the kind of article I usually write. It doesn’t break down scientific mechanisms or cite peer-reviewed research. Instead, it carries a different kind of evidence: lived experience. And that’s just as valuable, because sometimes the most meaningful growth happens not in certainty, but in the courage to move forward without it.