This is a submission for the 2026 WeCoded Challenge: Echoes of Experience
Sometimes the difference between giving up and moving forward is just one person who believes in you.
I started coding when I was around nine years old.
My first program was written in LOGO, where I spent hours writing tiny programs using a funny-looking triangular turtle that moved across the screen. You could tell it to move forward, turn, and draw shapes, and slowly patterns would emerge. To a kid, it felt magical. A few instructions and suddenly the computer was drawing something I had imagined.
Back then I had no idea what a career in tech looked like. I just knew I loved making computers do things.
One thing that made my journey different from many stories I hear today was the support I received at home. My family, especially my dad, supported my interest in computers wholeheartedly. At a time when many people still questioned whether girls should pursue technology, he never did. To him it was simple — if I enjoyed it, I should pursue it.
That early encouragement made a huge difference.
The Myth of the Solo Journey
When people talk about careers in tech, the story is often about individual effort — perseverance, hard work, determination.
And while those things matter, looking back I realise something else played an equally important role: enablers.
Throughout my journey there were always people who gave me a small push forward at the right moment.
Not huge dramatic gestures. Just small nudges that made a big difference.
The First Catalyst
Early in my career I had a tech lead who noticed something about me before I fully recognised it myself.
I loved clean code.
I loved experimenting.
Hackathons excited me.
Instead of letting that remain just a personal interest, he organised a hackathon within the team.
At the time it seemed like just a fun activity. But in reality, it gave me confidence. It validated that my curiosity and enthusiasm for building things mattered.
Sometimes all someone needs is that small signal that their passion is worth investing in.
Finding My Voice
Later in another organisation I faced a different challenge.
I was technically confident, but public speaking terrified me.
Speaking up in meetings, presenting ideas, addressing a room full of people — those things didn't come naturally to me.
An office head in that organisation noticed this and gently pushed me out of my comfort zone.
Encouraging me to present.
Encouraging me to speak up.
Encouraging me to trust my voice.
I still remember a very simple piece of advice he gave me.
He said, “Start small. Just say hi to people in the morning.”
His reasoning was simple. If I greeted people in the hallway or by the coffee machine, when I later saw them in a meeting room they wouldn’t feel like strangers anymore. The room would feel a little less intimidating.
He also said something that stuck with me — smile. Maybe crack a small joke to ease the tension.
It sounded almost too simple at the time, but it worked. Slowly those rooms full of unfamiliar faces started turning into rooms with colleagues I already knew, even if only through a quick morning hello.
And little by little, speaking up didn’t feel so scary anymore.
Today I speak about topics I care deeply about, especially identity and authentication in tech — something I am incredibly passionate about.
The Reality of Being Heard
If you’ve worked in tech long enough, you’ve probably seen this happen.
Sometimes a woman's voice is ignored.
Ideas get overlooked.
Comments go unheard.
Credit sometimes travels in unexpected directions.
It happens.
But another truth exists too.
There are also people who amplify voices.
People who pause the room and say,
"I think she was making a really good point."
People who make sure ideas get the attention they deserve.
Over time I’ve realised the tech industry isn't defined only by the people who silence voices.
It’s also shaped by the people who make sure those voices are heard.
Recognising the Enablers
Even today in my current workplace I am fortunate to work with amazing people who create that kind of environment.
Looking back, my journey was never just about learning new technologies, frameworks, or systems.
It was also about recognising the people who helped me move forward.
The enablers.
The mentors.
The leaders.
The colleagues.
The allies.
The people who saw potential and helped unlock it.
Paying It Forward
The biggest lesson from my journey is this:
If you’ve had enablers in your life, the best thing you can do is become one for someone else.
Encourage the curious junior developer.
Support the quiet voice in the meeting.
Create spaces where people can experiment and grow.
Sometimes a small push can change someone’s entire trajectory.
I know it did for me.
And to all the girls who want to code but feel like they can’t,
to all the women and marginalised voices who sometimes feel unheard or silenced in tech:
Look around.
There are often people who quietly support you, encourage you, and believe in you — sometimes even before you believe in yourself.
Find those people.
Recognise them.
Hold on to them.
Because once you identify the enablers in your life, you’ll realise something powerful. You were never coding alone.
And if you ever feel like you don’t belong in tech, remember this:
Sometimes all it takes is one enabler to change your trajectory — and someday, that enabler might be you.
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