Adventures with Impostor Syndrome
3 things I learned during my first year as a “real” developer
Looking back now, I realize I didn’t have a set definition of what a “real developer” was. One thing was certain — I wasn’t one. Being a real developer was two steps ahead of wherever I happened to be at all times. When I was writing blog layouts in middle school I didn’t consider myself a developer. It was just some hacky code that I pieced together from Google, moving pixels around the screen in an effort to better convey my adoration for Gerard Way on my My Chemical Romance fanpage.
Anyone could do what I was doing, I thought at the time. And when I changed my major to Computer Science during my junior year, I figured being a real developer was just around the corner — not quite within reach, but pretty close, just as soon as I finished working through all of the practice problems in my C++ textbook.
A year later, I dropped out of college. Being a real developer never felt as far away as it did during that time. Still, I continued to learn to code on my own, and eventually I got a job with the word “developer” in the title. Surely at that point, by definition, I was a real developer. But I talked myself out of this as well. I didn’t feel challenged in my new position. And I reasoned that if I didn’t find the work challenging, it was probably because the work wasn’t objectively difficult — anyone could do my job.
About a year later, I got a job at a larger company that felt more like the result of a series of small miracles than anything I’d truly earned. But slowly, I began to give myself permission to think of myself as a developer — yes, a “real” one.
1. Don’t apologize (for asking questions, for making mistakes, for breathing…)
I didn’t realize I had this habit until a senior developer kindly told me to stop apologizing for simply doing the things that they hired me to do. After this I became painfully aware of how many times a day I said the word “sorry.” It was like my personal disclaimer. “Sorry I’m such a waste of oxygen, but could you take a look at the email I sent you last week? You know, when you have time! I know you’re really busy. Sorry. Sorry!”
During your time as a junior developer, you will ask tons of questions. You will screw up, and you will require help. You’re going to stumble over unfamiliar words and ask people to repeat themselves. That doesn’t make you a nuisance. Being inquisitive doesn’t make you an inconvenience to your peers — it is how you learn, grow, and become a more valuable asset to your company.
2. You belong
“I have written eleven books, but each time I think, ‘Uh oh, they’re going to find out now. I’ve run a game on everybody, and they’re going to find me out.” — Maya Angelou
At first I thought I got hired by accident, like some kind of fluke. Once I was on the other side of interviewing, I saw how wrong this was. Hiring new talent is an exhaustive (and exhausting) process that involves multiple layers of vetting and the judgement of several people, some of whom you might not even know were involved in the decision.
If you got the job, it’s because you were the best candidate that they could find. Chances are, they saw a lot of promising candidates. And yet you are the one that they picked. You didn’t luck your way into this. Something about you stood out to them, and they chose you.
Another thing: your employer already knows that you’re junior; they hired you anyway. Don’t be afraid of being “found out” for not knowing everything and being an industry expert. Trust me, they already know, and they don’t really care — as long as you’re learning and working hard, that is.
“The exaggerated esteem in which my lifework is held makes me very ill at ease. I feel compelled to think of myself as an involuntary swindler.” — Albert Einstein
3. The validation never comes (and even if it does, it won’t be enough)
“You’ve always had the power.”
“I have?”
“Then why didn’t you tell her before?”
“Because she wouldn’t have believed me. She had to learn it for herself.”
— The Wizard of Oz
You might spend your early years waiting for the sign you that you’ve “made it”, for someone to tell you that you’re an authentic, certified, actual developer. But the truth is that this moment never comes.
Even if you do receive the reassurance that you long for, your impostor syndrome won’t permit you to enjoy it for very long. Little by little, it will erode away any positive feedback you receive. Your mind will find reasons that it doesn’t count. It was a fluke. An accident. You had a lot of help, and anyway, it wasn’t that hard of a project to begin with. They’re just being nice.
If you’re like me, this endless search of external validation will leave you spinning out into an identity crisis, feeling like a child playing dress up in your parent’s closet, projecting the appearance of an adult professional while inside you feel like anything but. Somehow, your disguise has fooled people so far. But it won’t be long before they find you out.
So when do you become a real developer? Is it when you get hired as one? Is it when you graduate from a college degree track that specifically relates to the field of computer science? Maybe it’s after you’ve learned your first programming language, or your second. (And if so, at what point do you really “know” a programming language? The answer is different depending on who you ask.)
I’d like to propose that we become developers when we do what developers do. From the moment we execute our first ‘hello world’ , we’ve created something. While it’s unlikely that a company would hire us with only this task under our belt, that doesn’t mean we can’t give ourselves permission to claim the identity of developer. Whether we are student developers, juniors, or seasoned developers with decades of experience in the field, we all share the common trait of insatiable curiosity and a passion for solving the world’s problems.
Is this not the essence of being a developer?
