Man, I still remember November 2016 like it was yesterday, even though it feels like a lifetime ago. Back then, I was stuck, really stuck, in a job that just drained me. Every single morning, I’d drag myself out of bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking, “Is this it? Is this all there is?” I was pushing pixels around, doing design work that felt utterly soulless, and the pay, well, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly setting the world on fire. It was just enough to get by, nothing more. My boss was a piece of work too, always breathing down our necks, never happy with anything. I felt like I was just a cog, you know? Just another disposable part of a machine.
One evening, I was just staring at my screen, mindlessly scrolling through some design forums, and I stumbled across a post about web development, specifically about some folks making their own stuff, building actual applications. Something just clicked. I mean, I’d always liked fiddling with things, figuring out how stuff worked. This felt… different. It felt like a way to actually build something from nothing, something that did stuff, not just looked pretty. That night, I decided something had to change. I couldn’t keep going like that. My gut told me this was it.
Taking the Plunge
So, I started digging. I mean, proper digging. I devoured everything I could find about web dev. Free online courses, YouTube tutorials, random blog posts, you name it. I started with HTML and CSS, just the absolute basics. It was slow going at first. Really, really slow. There were so many times I wanted to just throw my laptop across the room because something wouldn’t align, or a button wouldn’t work. I’d sit there, late into the night, after a full day of my crappy design job, just hammering away at code, trying to make sense of it all.
Then I moved onto JavaScript. Oh boy, JavaScript. That was a whole different beast. I remember feeling so lost, like I was trying to read a book in a language I didn’t understand. I watched countless videos, read documentation that made my head spin, and just kept trying things. My brain felt like it was melting half the time. I built little practice projects – a calculator, a to-do list, a super basic weather app. They were ugly, they barely worked, but they did something. And that felt amazing. Each time I got something to finally work, even a tiny bit, it was like a little burst of pure joy. It kept me going, pushed me forward.
- Learned HTML, CSS from free resources.
- Struggled with JavaScript, but kept practicing.
- Built small, ugly, but functional projects.
I started thinking about what kind of developer I wanted to be. Front-end seemed like a natural fit coming from design, so I focused there. Picked up a framework, React, because everyone was talking about it. That was another learning curve, a steep one. But by then, I was kinda hooked on the struggle. I actually started enjoying the challenge of figuring things out, breaking down problems, making the computer do what I wanted. My friends probably thought I was crazy, disappearing every evening to stare at a screen, chugging coffee.
The Grind and the Breakthrough
After about a year of this intense self-teaching, I felt like I had enough to actually show for it. I cobbled together a portfolio with my janky little projects. I mean, they weren’t pretty, but they proved I could build stuff. Then came the job hunt. That was another brutal phase. I applied everywhere. Seriously, everywhere. Junior developer roles, entry-level, anything. I got so many rejections, it started to feel personal. “Not enough experience,” “looking for someone with a stronger background,” “best of luck in your search.” It was disheartening, to say the least. There were nights I just wanted to quit, go back to my old, miserable comfort zone. It felt like all that work was for nothing.
But something inside me wouldn’t let me give up. I remembered that feeling of being stuck, that dread every morning. I couldn’t go back there. So I kept practicing, kept refining my projects, kept applying. I even started going to local meetups, just to talk to other developers, pick their brains, try to understand what I was missing.
Then, one day, I got an email. It was for an interview at a small startup. I remember shaking while I prepared. I went in, probably sweating buckets, and tried my best to explain my projects, my passion. I was honest about my self-taught journey, about the hours I’d put in. And you know what? They saw something in it. They saw the hustle. They saw someone who was hungry to learn and build.
I got the job. A proper junior front-end developer role. It wasn’t fancy, the pay wasn’t amazing at first, but it was real. It was a foot in the door. I remember that feeling of pure relief, elation. It was like finally reaching the top of a ridiculously steep hill. All those late nights, all that frustration, all those rejections – it suddenly all made sense. It all contributed to that moment. It wasn’t just a job; it was proof that I could actually change my own path, build something new for myself. It was the start of something totally different, and yeah, definitely better.
