If You Don’t Document It, It Didn’t Happen
A survival guide to performance reviews, quiet wins, and building your petty little brag file.
It’s that time of year again.
✨ Performance review season. ✨
You sit down at your desk, open the self-review form, and the blinking cursor starts mocking you.
What have you achieved this year? What business impact have you delivered?
And you… blank. No milestones. No memory. Just a foggy sense of “surely I’ve done something.”
Meanwhile, your manager shows up to the review meeting with that familiar look of strategic amnesia.
“There were a few months where you didn’t seem as productive…” Oh?
What months? Which projects?
You’re scrambling to defend yourself with nothing but sheer conviction and a couple of fuzzy recollections.
My First Review Was a Disaster
This was me, year one.
I’d worked long hours, jumped in on last-minute requests, helped out on things well outside my remit—all while staying quiet and hoping someone would notice.
Spoiler: they didn’t.
And come review time? I had no proof, no list of wins, no polished examples. Just panic and regret.
I stumbled through that meeting.
Undermined. Under-credited. Underpaid.
Never again.
If You Don’t Write It Down, It Didn’t Happen
Work in corporate long enough and you’ll realise: impact ≠ recognition.
People forget.
Managers forget.
You forget.
We’re so deep in the day-to-day that progress starts to feel invisible.
So I started writing everything down.
Progress Never Feels Like Progress (Until You Look Back)
Recently, I felt like a total failure because I could only squat 20kg.
I was frustrated. I felt weak. Like all the effort wasn’t adding up.
But then I remembered—six months ago, I couldn’t even do a squat with proper form. My knees were wobbly, my core was giving up, and I was watching YouTube videos trying to figure out what “neutral spine” meant.
That’s when it hit me:
I have progressed.
It’s just hard to see when you’re in it.
And last week? I was annoyed it took me 20 minutes to configure some code for a simple task.
But I had to laugh—because last year, I didn’t even know what a script was.
Now I’m writing them. Testing them. Fixing my own bugs.
We’re so quick to forget how far we’ve come because we’re so focused on what’s not working.
So I realised—if I don’t write it down, I will always convince myself I haven’t done enough.
Why Start a Brag File?
Here’s what documenting does for you:
Gives you actual proof. When your manager says “You didn’t really deliver,” you can go, “Oh? Let’s pull up Q2.”
Keeps your memory honest. We tend to either undersell or romanticise our past work. Your notes don’t lie.
Makes reviews less painful. No more scrolling back through a year of Teams messages to jog your memory.
Improves your confidence. Seeing a growing list of wins—big or small—reminds you that you are making progress.
Quiet revenge. There is power in being the most prepared person in the room. Especially when your manager isn’t.
The Brag File Setup (Low Effort, High Impact)
I keep mine in a plain Excel sheet. Nothing fancy.
Every Friday before I log off:
I jot down what I worked on
Wins for the week
Any positive feedback from coworkers or leadership
Anything that went above the usual expectation
Doesn’t need to be perfect. Doesn’t even need to be pretty. It just needs to exist.
A Very Satisfying Turnaround
Fast forward to my second review.
I came in calm, composed, and with a spreadsheet full of receipts.
When my manager tried the ol’ “There was a dip in your output around mid-year,” I didn’t flinch.
“Do you mean July? Because that was the month I picked up [X], covered for [Y], and finalised [Z], all while onboarding the new grad. Happy to forward through the summary and feedback I got from the team.”
It was his turn to stumble.
The Final Cookie Crumb: Archive Your Greatness
This isn’t about being arrogant.
It’s about being ready.
Being respected.
And being paid what you’re worth.
So yes, keep a brag file.
Add to it every week.
Treat it like career journaling—with a touch of corporate petty.
And when review time rolls around?
Let them come for you.
You’ll be armed, logged, and version-controlled.
Because in corporate?
If you didn’t document it, it didn’t happen.