Why I'll Never Be A Software Engineer – For I Am Not A Job Title

I was set on this domain since I was 13. It became ingrained in my identity. But no longer will unemployment define me – for I'm decoupling from everything before I've even "begun."

Business As Usual

Just like that, another slew of opportunities has passed with nothing to show. Unlike past interviews, I don't believe there's anything I could've done better. If there was, I'm at a loss as to what it is – everything seemed perfect.

3 rounds and an assignment from April to June. I thought I'd been ghosted after a silent 2 months, but I finally received the final kick. Another long test and screening got the same result. I won't even mention the 3-for-3 ghostings by recruiters.

I sit here on day 803 since Pomp and Circumstance rang out in the stadium, with over 2 more years of additional work and projects, but somehow even fewer prospects for a future.

While I find meaning in my work, being devoid of income outweighs everything. Being unable to contribute to a Roth IRA, puts a hamper on enjoying what I do.

I hoped to reflect on this topic with an optimistic tone when this time came, but that won't be the case this year.

And I say this year because, with all the ghosting and fake postings, and seeing the trends of the past, my next interview probably won't be until after January.

What a world.

Regardless of how everything's turned out, I've pondered this topic for some time. It's the effect of this neverending "unemployment" on my sense of self – and to put it bluntly, my will to live.

I recall when I first chose my life's trajectory. I took a few computer science courses in high school because... video games. I was a teenager.

But I found there was much more to it. Computation opened up a whole new world of problem-solving. Complex calculations and automation felt so satisfying when they worked.

Those were my motivations for exploring the field of software. I went through higher education, perhaps naively believing my coursework and personal projects would adequately open up opportunities to contribute to the world.

Not get a job. Not get rich. Contribute to the world. That was all I cared about.

After all, the world was dying to welcome new ideas to build a better future. So I was told.

One can imagine the whiplash when I was met with a complete lack of consideration, if not outright hostility. My mind was bombarded with notions of "you're worthless," "new grads are clueless", and everything akin to that.

Granted, most of this came from doomscrolling on social media – an egregious influence I've only recently broken free from. Yet even in my reality, the complete disregard for timeliness and communication spoke more than words.

It's depressing when one's real-life experiences can match the intensity of social media's sensationalized, filtered perspectives not just once, but as a frequent occurrence.

To think an interviewer could smirk at someone's awkwardness. That one would rag on a former employee to a candidate they'd just met, or demonstrate a complete lack of respect for one's time by not following up.

I would've thought it was fiction – as much of the online world is. But this was not. It was a ludicrous reality.

I could only hear the repetitions of "you're hopeless" – which while never spoken outright nor directed at me, was implied countless times. That eventually morphed into "just go die."

I've already repeated the details of my past horrific thoughts enough, as I have with my two concussive self-harm attempts. So I will withhold detailing them again.

In any case, the bastion of holy knowledge remained forever out of reach. I was convinced everything in school, free time – everything I'd worked on in life was stupid, naive, and valueless.

They all existed in a fantasyland, and I knew nothing of what "real" work was like. "Know your place" – my place being below the dirt and 6 feet under.

This changed after I discovered volunteerism. It's a dynamic where I felt appreciated, not scrutinized. I didn't have to memorize and know everything to prove myself.

I was built up instead of torn down. From small beginnings on small features, I made my way through front end, backend, databases, and even a bit of computer vision.

I knew little about most technologies beforehand, but I became a major contributor to multiple projects, even spearheading some myself.

Often, I overcame these unknowns almost immediately, just by having the chance to work with them.

I uncovered the lies regarding this out-of-reach knowledge, and how simple most concepts were. And by simple, I mean just possible.

I wasn't incapable of grasping these concepts as I was convinced – at least when my environments supported my progress instead of murdering my self-esteem. The "real" applications hardly felt different than what I'd worked on before.

Perhaps this was a fluke though. Maybe the code standards weren't strict enough – it's just an internal tool after all. Once I caught a glimpse of a "real" software company, I'd see how naive I was, just as proclaimed.

Well, I've now worked with three organizations pro bono, one with quite strict code quality guidelines and a large potential user base.

I began contributing successfully from the get-go, and it's been less than 1 month. The technical discussions and feedback were great experiences, and the praise for successes made me feel giddy.

After countless iterations of "wait until you" this and "wait until you" that, I have cast away this ridiculous notion of the "gotcha" moment waiting to punish me for daring to have an iota of confidence. It's never coming.

I have indeed reached the limits of my knowledge at times. But I overcame those working with the same intuition I've used since my beginnings.

When that wasn't enough, my peers helped me expand my limits through collaboration. An important truth I've learned is while my outcomes may be self-performed, they're never "self-made."

Those in tandem have kept my progress steady. The anticipated brick wall is an outright lie unless purposefully constructed.

I heard the platitude "You are not defined by your job" many times, but I could never believe it. After all, I didn't have a job to be defined by in the first place.

However, my successful work experiences, albeit unpaid, have made me realize my own truth in this statement. Where I have not only not failed, but thrived.

I have now seen what I'm capable of – or can become capable of. I no longer see challenges as insurmountable obstacles but as opportunities to advance.

They're a glimpse of the exciting information in the world. A preview of what I will know and wield soon.

Defunct

Long ago, to go years without a job sounded exceptional to me – something had to be wrong with you after that long.

Online doomscrolling affirmed this was only possible if one was so inherently defunct that no one wanted you. Or you're not trying hard enough. There was no other explanation.

But I can hardly believe I'm an exception. I don't think it was idiotic to think my education would get me somewhere, without requiring additional internships and founding a company alongside that.

It's not like I didn't do anything else. I worked on projects spanning multiple years. I'd think that'd be demonstrative that I can see something through, be self-starting, and whatnot. Apparently not.

I scrolled through countless forums witnessing others in my position get lambasted. I internalized the implications. It's because you don't know the fundamentals. You don't even know how to write a for loop.

I believed that about myself until I realized – this is stupid. Of course, I know what a loop is. And believe it or not – I might even know a bit more. So that wasn't the issue.

You must suck at communicating then. You can't learn and take feedback from people better than you. You think you're so smart and know everything.

What an awful person I felt about myself. Until I received feedback, and made changes accordingly, learning in the process. And get this – I did so without losing my mind and refusing stubbornly, resisting my innate insolence through an amazing feat of sheer will. How amazing.

I was once terrified of judgment and struggled to get my words out. But I've improved working with various people and speaking with others.

Even if my vocal cords are probably damaged from misuse, and some days it hurts to talk, I do my best. And I've always responded promptly to messages – because I'm mortified to keep others waiting.

It's because you had no "real-world" experience then. College was just a fairytale land detached from reality. You were naive and dumb for thinking that meant anything.

Well, I've now worked with multiple real organizations, if my projects weren't real enough already. Yet magically, I'm using the same concepts I learned.

I've never had to use, let alone memorize calculus in "real" work.

Though it's not unfathomable either.

"Cheating" is no longer a concept – I use all resources at my disposal. The problems feel fun and meaningful, and I have not been blindsided.

If anything, real work feels more relieving and fulfilling than any of my school work. The only adversity and pain I've encountered were from people creating it.

No matter how many supposed defects I pushed past, whether as a falsehood or reality, another problem was dug up. I kept doomscrolling through reasons why I might be broken, witnessing poor souls get demolished.

Your work wasn't real enough. You don't have the drive. You're not applying enough. There's obviously something wrong with you. If there wasn't you'd have a job.

There were countless down periods, but an equal magnitude of triumphs succeeded those. I've accumulated evidence bolstered by the kind praise from those I've worked with who have credible backgrounds themselves. I can now believe this over the secondhand inferiority I've felt imposed on me.

I forced myself to believe everything – which meant accepting I was a hopeless fool. I had to listen to those who simply "knew better," but those same sources did nothing but convince me I might as well off myself.

Yet the supportive environments I've joined have shown me otherwise. After endless repetitions of this cycle, something always being wrong, it was inevitable I'd realize what really was.

I know better now. I know what I can do. I know what I want to do. I know what's not impossible. I know who I am. I know what notions I won't put up with anymore.

I know everything I was convinced of was a disgusting lie.

Because I now know there's likely nothing defective with me after all.

I fell right in line with the platitude's warnings. Without realizing, I've been defining myself by my utility – what use others can extract out of me.

Every perceived shortcoming conveyed not room for improvement or exploration, but that I was not worthy of living and shouldn't even try.

A microbe. Human excrement.
That's what I was, all over some bits and logic.

I only fixated on the fact I hadn't achieved that status. I couldn't bestow that title on myself to define my whole existence. I worked for my whole adolescent and young adult life – for this.

Wasn't that right?

No. It wasn't.

My previous words come back into the spotlight – the reason I delved into the field almost 11 years ago. I wanted to explore interesting domains, use creativity, and utilize computational power to solve problems.

I saw wonder in the endless applications of the power of machines. The means to work beyond my human limits, and cultivate unthinkable possibilities.

I never sought to "be a software engineer." There's no meaning to those words.

I can end up sitting in meetings for hours or working on a trivial HTML button with the title. I can also construct a larger system without it.

No, I wanted to feel amazement, and utilize technology to achieve my goals, not controlled and conformed in kind. Software should not be what forces me into who I am not.

And what I am is not a checklist. I am not a list of self-aggrandizing achievements on a paper. I am not an asset discarded the second I don't recite a perfect answer.

I don't think myself as defective, but I still have flaws. But it is not a defect for me to be imperfect – it's inevitable.

I've made mistakes, and often could've done better. But from what I've encountered, I can reiterate I hardly felt most places wanted me anyway.

Me. As in, for who I am.

My thoughts and perspectives developed over years. My hobbies across many domains I've been interested in and working on.

Not my experience, but my experiences. The harsh challenges I've encountered, and the perilous struggles preceding my present. A story still developing – well, one I'm forced to keep moving myself.

My emotions and feelings. My importance on timeliness, and expectations for courtesy and communication. My existence as another living being. All that felt unseen, unacknowledged, and cast away.

I hope these facets of me are what I'm accepted for when I finally find my place.

No – I will accept no other reason. Nothing less.

This really isn't even about software. I couldn't imagine doing anything else, but I don't have to be defined and constrained to a single domain. Because I am not my work.

Multiple years later, I'm yet to become what I wanted. I'm getting closer. But that triumphant moment will never arrive.

I want to document my experiences and improve in fiction. I've made breakthroughs in music production after a multi-year impasse.

I hope to bring my projects to life, work on positive change in the world, and feel fulfilled in what I've contributed. I'm sure there are exciting new problems and genuine people I'm yet to connect with.

In the next 8 years, I'll keep progressing toward my goals, whatever they may be. Maybe I'll succeed one day – to do what I always wanted.

But I will never be a writer. I'll never be a musician or artist.

And I sure as hell won't ever be a software engineer.