The Good With The Bad

The last few months have been some of the hardest of my career. There’s a particular kind of heaviness that comes not from one big event—but from the slow realization that something isn’t clicking. I changed teams last December to do something new. A space I had never been in and I didn't take the time to learn a thing or two, I just jumped right in.

On my old team, I had been at the top of my game—exceeding expectations and contributing meaningfully in the spaces I knew very well. But I wanted to grow. I wanted to do something new. I just wanted a new adventure. A new challenge.

I took a leap into unfamiliar territory. While I don’t regret it, I’ll be honest—it gave me a run for my money. Stepping outside my comfort zone expanded my perspective, but also tested my confidence in ways I didn't expect. It's a disorienting thing, going from being a top contributor to feeling unsure about yourself in a new environment. There was a much higher bar to meet and there were so many questions around all the things. I repeatedly asked myself "how the hell did I get here? I used to be a good engineer..."

I questioned my judgement, my value, and myself as an engineer. I worked long hours for months on end trying to just find my old self that would kick ass and turn things around. It was stressful, frustrating and tiresome. I got sick with covid. I also committed to a deadline which landed the day before my birthday (I know, smart). Having covid, working long hours, and being stressed out more than I've ever been just brought me to tears. At one point, I turned to my husband and said "Can I just quit my job?" I didn't quit. I persisted.

There were some saving graces, though. My side projects were a lifeline. They reminded me why I love programming—exploring, experimenting, just building stuff. They let me mess up and learn, or succeed and feel proud. I didn’t end up in this mess by accident. It’s what I do: I jump in. But this time, it felt like I was sinking instead of swimming.

We will all go through times of doubt and I think it's important to have something - like a side project - you can ground yourself in. Side projects don't always go as planned. If fact, mine are often too ambitious. Sometimes they're also too ambiguous. I take a wrong turn. I approach a problem the wrong way. But you can course correct and learn. It's okay to not have everything all figured out. That was a lesson I had to apply to my job. I took a wrong turn and it took me a little longer to find the right path.

The last few months when work felt off, the small side projects reminded me that I still know how to build things. I still knew how to learn new things. I still had a creative spark and I was curious enough to say "but what if I built this..." Side projects didn't fix the situation at work but they helped remind me about why I took such a plunge in the first place.

I had to figure out how to be happy again—for myself, my family, for life in general. It took a lot of thinking. I wrote down my thoughts. I talked with close friends, family, trusted coworkers. The big thing I realized was I had to stop waiting for things to get better and start making them better myself. One night, working on a side project that made me smile again, it hit me: this job wasn’t where I could do that anymore. So what happened? I decided it wasn’t going to work out at this job any longer.

That's how we've ended up here. It's not the perfect destination but one I've arrived at by embracing the messiness of growth. Those months of struggle, the side projects that kept my spark alive, and the evening talks with friends and family reminded me that my worth as an engineer—and as a person—isn’t tied to one role or moment. I’m still the one who jumps in, builds, learns, and keeps going. If you’re navigating your own detour, whether it’s a choice you made or one made for you, hold tight to something—a project, a conversation, a quiet truth—that anchors you. Then take a deep breath and step forward. Sometimes it just takes one brave step.