Not a Success Story. Just the Truth About Trying.
I did grow up around computers but i never took any AP computer science classes nor did i attend any robotics club. I spent most of my adult life doing work that had nothing to do with terminals, VS Code, or GitHub. I was a medic in the 82nd Airborne. I walked roofs with nail guns. I worked security at night. I dealt with overdoses and addiction when I worked case management. I cleaned cat cages at a rescue shelter for years. None of that pointed toward writing software for a living. And for most of my life, I didn’t think tech was even an option for someone like me.
When I finally opened a terminal for the first time, it didn’t feel intimidating — but it also didn’t feel normal. Basic commands felt like learning a new language. Learning what a for loop was felt like being introduced to a logic system I had never used before. And learning React felt like someone pulled the rug halfway under me — just enough for me to stand but not enough to feel fully steady.
My degree at Full Sail moved so fast that memory didn’t really stick. Each class lasted one month — then it was gone, and the next topic took its place. HTML, CSS, JavaScript, SQL, UX, Python, AWS basics, testing, deployment — all in separate months. I didn’t have time to master any one subject, but weirdly, momentum started forming. I didn’t remember everything, but repetition slowly built foundation. Not perfect, not deep — but enough.
And something clicked anyway. Even when I didn’t remember the syntax — I still liked this work. I liked that you could build something real and click on it. I liked reading error logs and figuring out why something broke. I liked seeing things appear in the browser and knowing I made that happen. It felt like work where effort actually turned into skill. I never had that feeling before. Not in construction. Not in security. Not even in the army. This field felt different. It felt like I finally found work that didn’t just drain me — it built me.
Understanding Where My Knowledge Really Sits
I graduated one month ago. I completed dozens of projects across school and landed a 12-week AWS internship at Amazon. Inside that short window, I passed two AWS certifications — Solutions Architect Associate and AI Practitioner — and operated inside real cloud environments without shortcuts. I had to study, read documentation, and follow real runbooks like everyone else. No one spoon-fed me anything. That experience helped me more than any class.
But graduating didn’t mean everything suddenly fell into place. What I really have right now is practical skill, but not perfect foundations. I can read JavaScript, React, HTML, CSS, and Python code and understand what it’s doing. I can follow data through a full stack app once it exists. I can deploy things to AWS or static hosting. I can debug real errors using logs, terminal output, CloudWatch dashboards, DevTools, and trial and error. I can get things working eventually — not because I know everything, but because I don’t stop until I find the right pattern.
What I can’t do yet is whiteboard complex algorithms from memory. I don’t claim to be able to solve medium LeetCode under pressure. But I can read code, understand it, adjust it, and ship working systems. I feel like I am exactly in the middle — past beginner but not “senior” anything. And honestly, that middle space is probably where most people actually live — even if social media makes it seem like everyone can build full systems straight from their head.
There is a huge difference between writing code from nothing and steering a working system forward. Right now, I am better at the second one. And at least that gives me direction.
What I’ve Learned About the Tech Industry So Far
1. Hard Work Does Not Guarantee Anything
In the past year, I have applied to more companies than I can count. Startups. Big tech. Small dev shops. Contract roles. “Entry-level” positions requiring five years of experience. Recruiter submissions. LinkedIn postings. Indeed. Company portals. Referrals. Networking messages. All of it. Most applications go silent. Some bounce back instantly with automated rejections. A few move forward, then disappear entirely. You keep trying. You keep submitting. But eventually you start to realize — there is no guaranteed point where effort turns into opportunity.
Some roles were clearly fake — posted but already filled so the company could meet some hiring policy. Some roles were meant for internal candidates but listed publicly for legal reasons. Some wanted someone’s nephew. Some wanted data structure mastery as a barrier even when the role didn’t require it. Some just wanted content writers, not engineers. You start realizing that “job hunting” in tech is really just trying to figure out which pathways are actually real and which are dead ends before you waste months chasing them.
That doesn’t mean giving up. It means being honest about what you’re actually facing. This field rewards persistence — but not always immediately and not always the way you’d expect. Sometimes skill gets ignored. Sometimes impressive projects don’t mean anything. Sometimes it has nothing to do with you at all.
It took me time to accept that working hard does not guarantee anything — but not working hard guarantees nothing.
2. Tech Is Merit-Based — and Also Not Merit-Based at All
There are two systems running at the same time, and both are real:
| System | What It Rewards |
|---|---|
| Classic Merit System | People with very strong foundations — DSA, algorithms, system design, math — especially those who can explain logic cleanly without references. These are the top ~1–5% who can operate with abstract thinking. That group will always find work. |
| Real-World System | People with connections. People who know someone inside. People who get referred. People who are already trusted. Sometimes, people who just happen to be in the right place at the right time. |
Most new grads probably do not have the first category mastered — especially if their education moved fast like mine. You come out able to build things and deploy things — but maybe not solve everything on a whiteboard from scratch. That doesn’t make you bad — it just puts you in category two, where getting seen usually requires personal connections, projects people can click on, or someone vouching for your ability.
People online often pretend it’s all merit-based or all nepotism — but that’s just online posturing. The truth is quieter:
it’s both. And it depends which door you’re trying to walk through.
3. Connections Change Everything — And They Don’t Come Easy
When I was younger, I thought “knowing people” meant cheating. Now I understand that in industries flooded with applicants, referrals are the only way a lot of hiring even functions. It isn’t always malicious — sometimes companies literally cannot review thousands of applications fairly. That means conversations become more valuable than resumes. When engineers vouch for you, momentum starts. When no one knows you, you often stay invisible, even if your work is good.
That doesn’t mean people get hired for doing nothing. It means most people need someone to open the door first so their work can actually be seen. And that is difficult when you are coming from outside the field. It takes longer. It takes more follow-ups. More messages. More rejection. More willingness to reach out when every instinct tells you not to bother.
Good work matters — but trust moves faster than GitHub links.
Closing Notes
I am not writing this as a success story or a lesson in perseverance. Right now, it just feels like I have come too far to walk away without at least finishing what I started. I spent years learning how to build things that actually work — not perfect, but real. I proved I can build and deploy working systems. That should matter somewhere, but so far it hasn’t moved anything.
I know the system is uneven. I know luck and connections move people ahead faster than effort. I know some roles are already filled before the posting even goes live. I know real skill often never gets seen. And I know none of that changes just because I work hard.
So I am not saying “I’ll make it.” I do not know that. I’m saying I am still here because right now I don’t see a better option. I keep building because stopping would make everything I already did feel pointless. I keep learning because forgetting what I’ve learned would make the past few years feel wasted. I keep trying because I don’t know what else someone in my position is supposed to do.
I am not looking for motivation. I am looking for an opening.
Until one shows up, I’ll keep moving — not because I believe in the system, but because turning everything off would feel worse than trying again tomorrow.
-Thank you for reading my vent
PS. i know this sounds like an edgy emo kid rant, thats cause im an edgy emo kid at heart.
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