Falling in and out of love with code: a lifelong love story

As I sit down to write this, I‘m taken back to my childhood bedroom, huddled over a Commodore 64 with my brother. We‘re poring through a book of BASIC code, meticulously transcribing it line by line, praying that this time, when we run it, the program will actually work. When it finally does, after hours of troubleshooting missing semicolons and misspelled commands, the sense of elation is indescribable.

That feeling of joyous creation has been the north star of my 30+ year love affair with code. But like any long-term relationship, it‘s been a journey with plenty of ups and downs. There have been times when the frustrations and disappointments made me question my commitment to this craft. But through it all, I keep coming back to the pure, unadulterated magic of breathing life into an idea with nothing but keystrokes.

The early days of passion

My romance with programming started in the era of 8-bit home computers in the early 1980s. Alongside the Commodore 64, I have fond memories of first learning to code on a ZX Spectrum and an Apple II. Back then, if you wanted to use a computer, you had to learn to program. There was no world wide web, no smartphone apps, no YouTube tutorials. Just you, the reference manual, and a blinking cursor daring you to make something happen.

I still remember my first "Aha!" moment – the first time I really felt like I could control the machine. I had written a little program to make a dot move around the screen using the arrow keys. Nothing fancy, maybe 10 lines of BASIC. But seeing that dot zip around at my command was a revelation. I realized that with code, I could create literally anything I could imagine. It was a heady feeling for a 10-year-old.

As a teenager, I graduated to more sophisticated languages like Pascal and C++. I devoured books on programming and computer science concepts. Most weekends you could find me at the local library, scouring the shelves for anything code-related. I couldn‘t get enough. Programming was pure creativity and problem solving, an outlet for both logic and imagination.

Reality check

Fast forward a decade, and I‘m a fresh-faced software engineer, ready to take on the world and make my mark in the burgeoning tech industry. I had honed my skills on academic projects and hobby coding, but I was hungry to build software that would make a real impact.

My first job was at a large financial institution, developing software for processing transactions. I was thrilled to be coding for a living, putting my skills to use on real-world problems. But the day-to-day reality was a far cry from the creative coding sessions of my youth.

Instead of the sprawling freedom to build whatever I wanted, I was constrained by legacy systems, bureaucratic processes, and business requirements that shifted daily. Debugging cryptic error messages at 2AM to meet an arbitrary deadline didn‘t feel very creative. When the 2008 financial crisis hit and I saw the impact of the software I had poured my heart into, it shook me. I started to question whether I wanted to spend my coding talents in service of an industry that seemed to prioritize profits over people.

Seeking meaning

That disillusionment led me to seek out open source projects in my spare time. Contributing code to projects aimed at social good helped rekindle my sense of purpose. I found a community of developers driven by curiosity and altruism rather than commercial interests. It was a reminder of what had drawn me to programming in the first place – the joy of collaborating to craft elegant solutions to complex problems.

As my career progressed, I discovered that I derived as much satisfaction from nurturing other developers as I did from coding itself. I found myself gravitating toward mentorship roles, striving to create the kind of supportive learning environment I wished I had as a junior developer. Pairing with a teammate to eke out a tricky algorithm brought back that feeling of camaraderie I had coding with my brother as a kid.

But even as I took on leadership positions, the pressures and frustrations of the industry continued to build. Long hours and the frenetic pace of the tech world took their toll. I‘ve had my share of sleepless nights wrestling with an impossible bug, or struggling to meet an unreasonable deadline. I‘ve watched talented colleagues burn out and leave the field entirely. At times, I‘ve felt dangerously close to that edge myself.

By the numbers

It‘s not an uncommon story. The technology sector has a well-documented dark side. Despite the efforts of many good people, diversity is still a major challenge. A 2021 study by Coursera found that globally, women make up only 5% of software developers. And the industry‘s obsession with youth and the shiny new thing can make it feel like your hard-earned experience is constantly being devalued.

Over half (58%) of professional developers have less than 5 years of experience, according to Stack Overflow‘s 2021 Developer Survey. The same survey found that 83% of developers suffer from burnout. In an industry that fetishizes the "10x developer" churning out code at a breakneck pace, it‘s no wonder so many of us struggle with work-life balance and mental health.

But I find solace in the knowledge that I‘m part of a global community of developers facing the same challenges. 31% of developers contribute to open source projects, often as a respite from the demands of their day jobs. And while the overall diversity numbers are disheartening, I‘m continually inspired by organizations working to make the field more inclusive and equitable.

The long view

When I step back and consider how far the world of software has come just in my lifetime, it‘s awe-inspiring. The 8-bit computers of my youth had kilobytes of memory and processing power measured in megahertz. Now, I hold in my hand a device millions of times more powerful, connected to a global network of information and services. Code that was once the domain of hobbyists and academics now powers every facet of our lives.

As developers, we wield an incredible power to shape the world with our keystrokes. But with that power comes a responsibility to consider the human impact of what we create. In my career, I‘ve seen software used to connect people across vast distances and to divide them into polarized echo chambers. I‘ve seen it streamline life-saving medical care and exacerbate income inequality. The lesson I‘ve taken is that no code is neutral – what we choose to build and how we choose to build it matters.

Looking ahead, I believe the key to a fulfilling career in software is to approach it not just as a trade, but as a craft and a calling. Treat each project as an opportunity to leave the codebase a little better than you found it. Optimize for human readability, not just computer efficiency. Take the time to guide and elevate those around you, knowing that your real legacy is the developers you inspire.

Because here‘s the secret they don‘t tell you: no matter how much experience you gain, you‘ll never stop feeling like an imposter sometimes. The field evolves so quickly that you‘ll never know everything. The myth of the solo 10x developer is just that – a myth. Building software is a team sport and a never-ending learning journey. Embrace the fact that you‘ll be a lifelong student and take joy in mentoring those earlier on the path.

To code with love

And so, three decades after that first magical dot zipping around my screen, here I am, still head over heels in love with code. Sure, we‘ve had our rough patches. There have been days when I‘ve wanted to quit and try sheep farming. But I keep coming back, because creating with code is, quite simply, what I‘m built to do. It‘s how I make sense of the world.

When I look at my daughter, just starting to discover the wonders of programming herself, I hope she experiences the same sense of limitless possibility that first drew me in. I hope she finds as much frustration and failure as she does success, because that‘s how she‘ll learn to persevere in the face of adversity. Most of all, I hope she always codes with love – love for the craft, love for her fellow developers, and love for those whose lives will be touched by what she creates.

To all the coders out there, whether you‘re just starting out or you‘ve been at it for decades, I see you. Keep putting one keystroke in front of the other. Keep learning, keep mentoring, keep creating. The world needs more people like you who understand the power of code to change lives. Just remember to take care of yourself along the way and never lose sight of what drew you to this marvelous field in the first place. Happy coding!