Coding Heartbreak: Moving on from Software Engineering

Have you ever felt such a profound connection to something that it became ingrained in your identity without you even realizing? It shapes how you work, how you think, how you see the world, and how you interact with others. Did you ever imagine this level of attachment could exist for your field of study or your job? Well, it happened to me, and this is my journey.

When We First Met

It all began when I graduated from high school and immediately dove into my diploma studies in technology. Tech was a new frontier then, not widely understood or appreciated. It was even considered a fallback option for those who hadn't excelled academically. Yet, as I immersed myself in learning to code, my curiosity blossomed. From the simple thrill of printing "hello world" on a screen to exploring how OOP could mirror real-world scenarios, my interest soared. I found my people—those who thought like me, talked like me, and reveled in all things nerdy. My academic success in this field was a clear sign that I was on the right path, leading me to pursue a degree in this field at a local university.

Taking Things to The Next Level

University life brought exhilarating collaborations among software engineering students, sparking my passion. However, as I delved into deeper complexities, doubts surfaced. Witnessing friends drop out intensified my uncertainty, especially since most of my other close friends were not pursuing the same field. In moments of emotional turmoil, thoughts of quitting crossed my mind. Yet, I persisted, and software engineering became essential to me. I cherished group projects, eagerly absorbed new concepts, and watched my passion for application development thrive with each module. I also made new like-minded friends. Before I knew it, I had completed a total of seven years studying IT.

Formalizing Our Relationship

When it came time to seek employment, it was clear—I wanted to kickstart my career as a Software Engineer, and that's exactly what I did. In my first job, I entered a whole new world of software engineering. There, I collaborated with exceptional engineers whose passion for code was palpable. I learned new languages, frameworks, and infrastructures, often feeling overwhelmed by the endless possibilities. Yet, once I started coding, all doubts faded away. Each keystroke filled me with passion, curiosity, and the exhilaration of seeing my code come to life on the screen. Coding became my sanctuary—a place where I could get lost in my own world, engaged in private conversations with my creations.

During the tech industry boom, when everyone seemed eager to upskill and enter the field, I realized how fortunate I was to be part of an industry that had evolved from being overlooked to becoming one of the most prestigious and competitive fields. Gone were the days when software engineering was seen as a fallback option; now, it was a thriving domain where innovation and expertise were highly valued.

Pandemic Revelation

Three wonderful years passed, and then one day, COVID-19 struck, unraveling my world. The pandemic locked me inside, robbing me of the outlets I once used to destress and cope, like meeting friends or going out. As I grappled with this new reality, it unearthed issues I had overlooked, affecting every aspect of my life, including my job—a role I had once found deeply fulfilling now felt like an overwhelming burden.

Day after day, I found myself mentally drained, glued to my computer screen, oblivious to the passage of time and often leaving work late. There were moments when I struggled to solve problems or deliver functional solutions for product features, and these challenges followed me into restless nights, where I would toss and turn, haunted by unresolved issues.

But perhaps the hardest blow came in the form of imposter syndrome, a relentless force that magnified every perceived failure. What I had once seen as opportunities for growth now felt like overwhelming obstacles, suffocating me with negativity. The thrill of being part of a fast-paced industry turned into overwhelming pressure as I watched peers effortlessly advance their skills, while I struggled to find time to expand my tech portfolio and felt constrained by my current tech stack.

Before long, these pressures began to seep into every part of me—undermining my self-esteem, shaking my self-confidence, and ultimately extinguishing the passion I once held for software engineering.It was a heartbreaking realization that the burning passion I once felt had dimmed without my noticing. The harder I tried to hold onto the flame, the more it seemed to scorch and consume me. Each attempt to reignite my coding enthusiasm only intensified the pain and frustration. It was then that I fully comprehended how deeply I had cherished this field, and how blind I had been of its profound impact on my mental, emotional, and physical well-being.

Letting Go and Rediscovering New Experience

Letting go of software engineering, a field I cherished for over 10 years, was not easy. It felt akin to parting with a first love, where the discovery of passion was profound and hard to replicate elsewhere. I was hesitant to explore other options, as software engineering had been my sole career path. Even as I tried to pursue other opportunities within the field, I unfortunately still grappled with pressure and imposter syndrome. It became evident that I needed a complete break to heal and explore life beyond.

After months of soul-searching, career research, and facing rejection, I eventually found something that resonated with me: transitioning into technical consulting. It's been nearly three years since I made this shift. While I occasionally ponder a return to software engineering, the answer remains uncertain and stirs nostalgic feelings, particularly when coding is involved, albeit not as intensively as before.

My experience in software engineering is a cherished memory. It illuminated the boundless possibilities of the digital world and showcased the immense power of human minds in crafting millions of lines of code. It also highlights the important realization that when something becomes integral to your identity, parting from it is inevitable if it no longer brings fulfillment, but rather, pain.