Closing My Chapter as a Product Owner: A Painful Experience, but Full of Lessons

After spending 5 to 6 months trying out a role as a Product Owner at a company, giving it my absolute all—buying books, taking courses, asking for advice, doing everything I could to grow—I was recently let go. It’s been incredibly hard. From the beginning, I didn’t feel welcomed by some members of the services team. Their manager would constantly show up to meetings looking annoyed or displeased, like I had done something wrong. The team members were impatient and unfriendly during conversations—not just in tone but also in written communication.

I also faced a very negative environment with the Scrum Master, who was part of a Development Operations team. I never felt welcomed by her either. I really tried to make it work. I made an effort from my side to communicate, to adapt, to collaborate. And just when I thought maybe things were starting to improve, the architect—who had also made me feel discriminated against—sent me a message that felt cold and unkind. It felt like the final blow.

The retrospectives weren’t helpful either. When a retro isn’t objective or constructive, it doesn’t help the Product Owner grow—it becomes personal. That’s how it felt. Every time I shared my opinion, there were one or two voices who pushed back strongly. The architect and the Scrum Master always seemed to support each other, so it never felt like a neutral space.

I had been trying to find another job for a while but wasn’t successful, and on Thursday, they officially let me go.

So now I want to thank everyone who’s shared advice or their own experiences as a Product Owner—it’s meant a lot. This is where I close the chapter on being a Product Owner. Truthfully, I never wanted to be one in the first place. I took the role out of necessity and followed the advice of others. As someone responsible and committed, I gave it everything I had—even outside of office hours. But it wasn’t enough for my manager or the leadership. I believe they listened more to the people who shouldn't have had the final word.

I didn’t see strength in leadership either. My manager repeated what I said in meetings and, during the dismissal, mentioned concepts like assertiveness, which I never really saw from her either.

This whole experience confirmed what I already suspected: I don’t want to work as a Product Owner anymore. Not just because of the layoff, but because I truly can't imagine spending my life just handling tickets and prioritizing tasks. That’s not for me.

I also don’t believe this company truly understands the role of a Product Owner—at least not in the team I was in. And again, I didn’t choose this path out of passion. I took a risk, experimented, and now I know: this isn’t it for me.

To anyone reading this: listen to your intuition. Try things if you have no other option, but don’t ignore that inner voice. And if something isn’t right for you—it’s okay to walk away.

I gave everything. Even when I was exhausted. Long commutes, constant stress, and in the end, I wasn’t seen as a human being—just a machine. The day I had to return the company laptop, my manager literally followed me into the room, waiting for me to hand it over, like I was being chased by the police. That moment of being treated with suspicion, as if I wasn’t trustworthy, was incredibly dehumanizing.

I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone.

So, this is me closing the Product Owner chapter. I don’t know what the future holds, but I take this lesson with me:

This is definitely not what I want to do with my life.