Green Flags: What Keeps Me Moving in Project Management

Green Flags: What Keeps Me Moving in Project Management

These days, spotting a green flag in a relationship is considered a skill, and a lucky one, too. “He texted me to check if I reached home = green flag.” “She brought me food without asking = green flag.” Instagram loves it. So does life.

But somewhere between these romantic reels and relationship rants, a thought struck me…

Why can’t we spot green flags in our profession too?

Especially in a profession like Project Management, where your relationship isn’t just with people but with timelines, surprises, crisis, and calendar invites that never end.

I’ve been in a committed relationship with Project Management for about nine years now, a pretty long love story for a Project Manager in Nepal. And if you include all the unofficial flirting I did with it before the official title came, it’s even longer. Like most long-term relationships, it had its eye-rolls, its meltdowns, and its deep hugs.

But what kept it alive, and what still keeps me moving, are these green flags. Not dramatic, not social-media-worthy. But real.

So let’s rewind to a few scenes.

Lights. Camera. PM Life.

1. When a dev said, “Thank you for having my back.”

It was one of those days when the project looked like a plane flying with one wing.

Client call. Tension. Something went wrong (nothing explosive, just classically inconvenient). I did the usual, took ownership, diffused the bomb, and wrapped up like a calm cucumber.

Later, the dev pinged:

“Thank you for having my back.”

No emoji. Just words.

That was enough. It wasn’t about appreciation. It was about safety. Trust.

Green flag #1, not the kind you wave on a racetrack, but the kind that grows silently in your team like a quiet “I’ve got you.”

2. When the client turned into a person

Clients are usually known for stories that raise blood pressure. But this one’s a double feature, two moments, one message: humans exist on the other side of the call, too.

Scene one:- I’m explaining a feature over chat, and my fingers are flying in Roman Nepali. A full poetic explanation in our “bhai haru ko official” language.

Client pauses and asks:

“Wait… you all actually chat like this in the office?”

I laughed. “Yes. It’s our emotional natural language keyboard used for internal chats.”

We were no longer ‘vendor’ and ‘client’. We were just two humans, giggling over a typo.

Scene two:- I show up to a call bald. Not stylish bald. Ritual bald. The “Sharaddha” bald.

Client messages privately:

“Hey, I hope everything’s okay. I’ve heard this usually means someone in the family passed away?”

I paused. That was personal. And unexpectedly kind.

I told him it wasn’t exactly that, but yes, it was Sharaddha, the annual ritual to honour my late father. On that day, a son shaves his head. It’s tradition. It’s emotional.

He didn’t have to. But he did. That was no longer a client-vendor exchange. That was empathy. That was the connection.

That was it. No awkwardness. Just humanity.

To me, both moments were green flags. Because clients who see you as a person first? That’s the stuff of real partnerships.

3. When a teammate admitted a mistake, and no one freaked out

In one incident, a dev calmly said, “The issue was mine, my mistake. I missed something.”

No panic. No blame. No need to defend.

We discussed. We learned. We moved on.

That’s when I realised, this is what psychological safety looks like. A place where you can fall and not get judged. Where retros are retros, not revenge episodes.

Green flag? Definitely.

4. When we failed, and laughed anyway

One day, the client demo flopped like a Bollywood sequel no one asked for. The screen froze, the feature broke, and the hope vanished.

After the demo, instead of hiding, we as a team… laughed.

I said, “Epic fail!”

The next day, we were back at it, joking, fixing, and showing up.

That’s not just team spirit. That’s resilience with a sense of humour.

Green flag #4.

5. When someone I mentored became a PM

A few years back, I had a teammate. Always curious. Always trying to learn new things.

I won’t take the credit and say I mentored them. I didn’t really “train” or “coach” them. We just worked together, day in, day out. But recently, one of them messaged me:

“Dai, if there’s ever a Project Manager opening at your company, please let me know.”

That one line made me pause.

It made me feel like, maybe, just maybe, I didn’t do too badly as a Project Manager. Maybe I did something right, without even realising it. And maybe that spark passed on.

And now, one of my current team members has already stepped into the PM role. Watching that journey up close, from someone quietly learning to someone confidently leading, it’s something else. It reminds me why I love doing what I do.

No awards needed. Please 😂.

The End Credits

Now, about those questions:

“Why do you still love going to the office?”

“How much do you actually love your job?”

“Thirteen years at the same company? Still?”

The answers don’t come wrapped in logic. They come wrapped in these green flags. These tiny scenes that add up to something big.

I didn’t choose Project Management for the glory. And I didn’t stay for the Gantt charts.

I stayed because somewhere, amidst the chaos and the chase, I found what it truly means to be a Project Manager in Nepal. You’re with the right people. This story is still worth telling.

To anyone wondering what it’s like to stay in love with your work for this long, just know that green flags exist, even in project timelines. Especially when you’re a Project Manager in Nepal, where every project brings people, purpose, and a bit of poetry

And just like that:

Picture abhi bhi rolling hai, mere dost. 🎬