A lot of you might not know this, but I didn’t start my career in tech. If you’ve seen me mention “accidental admin” before, you should know the word “accident” doesn’t even begin to cover it.
After studying economics and math at UCLA, I landed an internship at Bank Leumi in Tel Aviv, working on the foreign currency options desk. I helped with confirmations and got a taste of product management, but there wasn’t much “tech” involved. Then, I got my first job at Wells Fargo in the FX operations group, and that’s where Salesforce came into my life — though I had never even heard of it before.
That summer, my boss was tasked with a Salesforce migration, and while I was focused on other projects, I kept getting pulled into the Salesforce work. That’s how I learned the system, from the inside out, figuring it out as I went. Eventually, our group was absorbed by the team managing Salesforce across the department, and I dove deeper into business analysis and writing requirements.
I also spent a lot of time with the tech team who built our Salesforce system. Between happy hours, frustrating conference calls, and way too many late nights, we became close. So close that when the team lead was looking for someone to step in as the lead business analyst and product owner, he asked me.
My first thought? Wait, does he realize I can’t code? I’d only just learned SQL on the job two years earlier! But he assured me that coding wasn’t what mattered. I had the relationships, the technical understanding, and (what I didn’t fully appreciate at the time) a clear, friendly, and effective communication style that made me perfect for the role.
So, I crossed over to the tech side, and it’s been a wild ride ever since. I’ve fully immersed myself in Agile frameworks, the Product Owner and Scrum Master roles, and I’ve seen all kinds of Salesforce implementations — the good, the bad, and the ugly. Over the years, I’ve gotten more technical than I ever thought I would, but there’s always been a little voice in my head asking, Am I technical enough?
Recently, at an industry conference, a speaker shared his journey from accidentally discovering Salesforce to building a successful consulting firm. During the Q&A, someone asked him how he deals with people questioning his technical abilities because he’s not a developer. That question hit home for me, because while I’ve heard similar feedback a couple of times, the biggest critic has often been me.
But here’s what I’ve realized: being non-technical is its own strength. It’s not about writing code — it’s about bridging the gap between the business side and the tech side. If developers are doing their job right, they should be able to explain it to anyone, and my job has always been to make sure that communication flows smoothly.
Even early on, my user stories and requirements were some of the clearest around. Leading Agile transformations gave me the chance to bring teams together, improve communication, and change the way we worked in the bank. That’s where my value has always been: in building relationships and creating understanding.
And a big part of that is how I communicate. Since I didn’t come from a technical background, I always make sure that non-technical people understand what I’m saying. I remember how frustrating it felt when tech consultants used jargon to make me feel like I didn’t belong. That’s not how you build good partnerships. For me, it’s about making tech feel accessible — good communication ensures that everyone knows their input matters. Understanding the process and the pain points a business team faces is just as important (if not more so) as understanding the technology we’ll use to create the solution.
I’ve come to realize that clients hire me for exactly this reason. It’s not because I’m a coding wizard, but because I can take technology, break it down, and make it work for them in a way that actually makes sense.
In a world that tends to measure technicality by coding skills, I’ve learned that the real gift is in being non-technical. Being able to communicate, collaborate, and lead has become my biggest strength — and it’s a gift I’m proud of.
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