April 2025 • 6 min read

When I graduated from Penn with a systems engineering degree, I wasn't dreaming of becoming an engineer. I figured I'd end up in tech consulting—something broad, something strategic. Something that would give me options.
Instead, I landed at Palantir as a Deployment Strategist—a role that blended technical implementation with real-world impact. It wasn't quite consulting, but it was close enough. I told myself it was a good launchpad.
What I didn't realize then was that I was already on the path to product management. I just didn't have the words for it yet.
At Palantir, I spent a lot of time configuring systems, solving tough technical problems, and supporting client launches. But over time, I noticed where my energy kept going: not toward perfecting code, but toward understanding people.
I found myself asking questions no one had asked—about what users actually needed, about why something felt clunky, about what would make the experience better. I'd shadow staff, prototype quick fixes, and advocate for changes that weren't in the spec.
I wasn't trying to be a product manager. But I was definitely acting like one.
One project changed everything.
We were supporting a public health agency with a new data integration platform. My official job was to lead the technical deployment. But something didn't sit right. The workflows weren't matching the tech. The users were frustrated. So I started digging in.
I talked to people. I sat with staff while they did their jobs. I asked questions. I watched their workflows. I mapped pain points and created prototypes to test ideas. The result? A smoother rollout, higher adoption, and a lot of surprised stakeholders.
None of this was part of the formal project scope—but it worked. Adoption went up. The team felt heard. And for the first time, I felt like I was building something with users, not just for them.
That stuck with me.
That stuck with me.
Not long after, I got the chance to join Ro as an Associate Product Manager. On paper, it looked like a step back—a junior title, a pay cut, a pivot into a new domain.
But for me, it felt like a bet on a future that made more sense.
I had to learn fast. Market research. UX principles. Business strategy. Stakeholder alignment. I read books, asked questions, made plenty of mistakes. But I also started to see how my engineering background gave me a real edge—especially when it came to earning trust with technical teams and making sound trade-offs.
And slowly, I started to find my footing.
That foundation I'd built in engineering? It turned out to be an asset.
Engineering gave me a toolkit: structured thinking, systems design, technical credibility. But product required more. It asked me to get comfortable in the grey. To make decisions with partial information. To rally people toward a shared goal without managing any of them directly.
It also demanded a deeper kind of empathy—one that went beyond users and extended to cross-functional teammates, business stakeholders, even leadership. Everyone had a perspective. My job was to connect the dots.
If you're in engineering—or just early in your career—and curious about product management, here's what I'd think about:
Looking back, the jump to product management wasn't really a detour—it was a return to the things I cared about most: people, problem-solving, and purpose.
I still use my engineering brain every day, but now I pair it with product perspective. I get to help shape not just what we build, but why it matters—and make sure we're solving the right problems for the people who use our products.
If you're considering the change, it's not always the easiest (and it sometimes feels like glorified cat wranglng). But it might just be the most fulfilling move you make.

Product Expert & Healthcare Specialist