I had a realization recently as I was working on my website. I care more about the outcome than the process when it comes to software engineering — which is why I fell into the AI tools trap. I would've never been able to create a project like this the way I imagined it using only my coding skills, at least not in the near future. Surely there's no harm in getting a little help? But how can I, in good conscience, call myself a "software engineer" when I'm not even the one "engineering" these projects? I can't take credit for something I didn't make myself, not entirely at least. And I sure as hell can't be calling it my career when I barely know anything about it.

Recently I entered a live technical interview knowing next to nothing about the stack I was being interviewed in (I was approached with the opportunity and went through with it sort of as a joke). I spent the week leading up to it half-learning the language and half-reading fundamental software concepts like OOP, SOLID, design patterns, all that fun stuff. Let's all take a wild guess how that went. No matter how much حشو I could've done in that week, I would've failed that interview anyway. Realizing that halfway through it made me admit my position to the interviewer, and I spent the rest of the 30 minutes asking him questions about his experience. It actually ended up being so much more useful than I thought — he gave me a lot of helpful advice and emailed me resources to learn from later, so I'm grateful I entered anyway knowing I wouldn't have passed it.

Even after the semi-happy ending I got from the interview, I still had that pit in my stomach afterward — I'm so much further away than I thought. And I have no one to blame other than myself for this illusion I've put myself in these past 4 years, that I'm smart and know what I'm doing, when I don't.

But I guess the first step in changing is realizing what's wrong?

It's really funny because for the first time in my life, my imposter syndrome is actually right—maybe I AM a fraud. I pretend to know all of these skills that I don't have. It does feel embarrassing to admit as an almost-graduate. Going back to basics, learning how to code from scratch with no AI involved is humbling. But it's the only way to move forward if I really want to be confident about my abilities. I stumbled across a very inspiring blog post written by another recent graduate, Micheal Kolanjian. Seeing someone else share their journey of realizing the trap they fell into and fighting against it was what I needed to read, and I recommend you do the same.

This conversation reminds me of a reel I saw that stuck with me about being a beginner and how it is viewed in today's world.

"Instead of feeling like a beginner, you just feel behind"
"We feel like we have to know the best method and avoid all the predictable mistakes"

These are sentiments that very accurately capture how I've been feeling, especially about software engineering as a whole, considering the vast amount of information out there. There are millions of roadmaps, hundreds of books, thousands of courses you could pick from. If I had a dollar for every time I got recommended a video titled "Here's how I would learn programming if I started today", I wouldn't have to get a job in the first place. I definitely fell into that trap of finding the best, most efficient way to learn something just to not learn it at all. Why are we so desperate to speedrun the process?

I'm not really sure how to conclude this given that I myself don't have a conclusion to this seemingly never-ending journey of figuring out what I'm doing in this field. Maybe let this be motivation for you to start over if you need to — it's never too late, and it's not embarrassing. Being a beginner is a good thing! Cherish it while it lasts.

The fear of being perceived¶

I constantly find myself unable to grasp how I can be perceived. I don't imagine I exist in other people's subconscious, whether I'm in their vicinity or not. I often find myself surprised to hear a sentence like "We were just talking about you" or "I thought of you when I saw this". I often forget that I am also perceived just as much as I perceive other people. I, like many others, am also afraid of being perceived. The concept of someone evaluating me by the fleeting moment in which I am seen, and not by my actions and my character, is terrifying to me. I try to pick and choose how I dress, how I speak, how I act, in an attempt to shape others' perception of me as a form of protection. But what am I really protecting myself from? We already covered how perception, inherently, is subjective. There are other factors involved in the creation of this perception that are irrelevant to the thing being perceived. So, in theory, you cannot entirely control another person's perception of something. All my efforts to shape someone's perception of me go to waste because ultimately, it's up to them to decide. Since being perceived is both inevitable and uncontrollable, why should we fear it at all?

Expressive vs. Performative¶

I can quietly enjoy my favorite band, or I can wear their merch. Why would one choose to do the latter? Someone might recognize your shirt and strike up a conversation on that shared interest. Someone might like your story repost of their song and even reply to it, happy to find someone with similar music taste. You feel a spark of joy—you've found your people. Expression of your identity is how we connect as human beings. If I only read in private and never share the books I read, or, God forbid, read in public, I deprive myself of the chance of signaling to another reader that I exist. You deprive yourself of an opportunity for conversation, for friendship. Human beings have always connected over shared interests, which would only occur if there was an aspect of publicizing involved. But what happens when you only choose to do those things in public, though? What if you don't read, yet carry a paperback with you everywhere to whip it out and let your eyes glaze over it, too distracted by the idea of what you look like right now to read the book? That, by definition, is pretense. Your intention is to look like someone who reads. But here's the catch—from an outsider's point of view, there is no difference between you and the avid reader right behind you, also holding a book in hand. That outsider can either think of you both as performatives or as readers, when neither assumption is true. What does that tell us?

Identity & Intentions¶

The outsider's opinion is random and not based on fact. Because there is no way to know the intentions behind someone's actions, only the action itself is perceived. And if the outsider's opinion is not based on fact, should it ever be considered? When you look at someone wearing a Nirvana T-shirt, does your opinion on their authenticity even matter? It is completely random—you'll never actually know if that stranger listens to Nirvana or not. So, considering a person as "performative" is never based on fact, since you don't have the full picture. Someone's opinion of why you do what you do, why you are who you are, is irrelevant. The only person who will ever have the full picture, and not have to guess based on appearance, is you. No one will see through your actions and intentions more than you do. So, who are you when nobody's watching?

• I love creating things in every realm you can think of, and have a delusional belief that I can probably learn anything
• I'm 20 and have no idea what I'm doing after graduation
• I love reading & writing, both of which used to consume all my time as a young girl before school got in the way
• I HATE bell peppers
• I lived in Kuwait growing up until COVID, and have felt like an outsider both here and there ever since (classic expat experience, I know)
• I put salt in my espresso — try it وادعولي
• I grew up on YouTube & genuinely believe 90% of who I am stems from the content I watched after school from 2014-2018

Now that I've already overshared 1 paragraph into this, I want to explain what the purpose of this website is, and in turn this blog. A couple of years ago I discovered neocities and the world of the indie web, and got charmed by this idea of personalization in the realm of the internet that is heavily commodified and has lost any sense of community within it. (Watch: The Internet Used to Be a Place). I heavily considered working on my own site there, but then remembered I'm a web developer and can make my own with much more freedom. I knew I wanted it to be a dumping ground for everything "me": any project I make, any song I like, any thought I have—it can all be housed in one place. The best way I found to display that was a desktop app—sort of mimicking my own computer, since that's technically where everything I make and enjoy lies. And alas, that was the birth of this website. I don't think of it as a "portfolio" anymore since it's definitely grown much broader than that, contrary to what I originally expected. It has been in the making & planning for around 1.5 years now, since I kept scrapping ideas and starting over. For a second I wanted it to be a program you download instead of a website, so it would feel more like a real OS and not just a funny-looking website. But then I thought about the probability of someone downloading a random .exe of a "personal desktop" from a random stranger on the internet—and the idea was swiftly scrapped.

Since I was already sharing everything I've ever made here, I naturally thought I'd have to write something too. The idea of a blog for random things has always been on my mind, but I never found a way to make it & share it that didn't feel random, so I'm glad I finally found a home for it. Even though I'm aware hiding it within this website probably means it won't be read by anyone, and I'm essentially writing to the void of the binary sea, that doesn't really matter to me. If this is my little corner of the internet, then I want to express my opinions and life lessons on here as well—a compact documentation of my life in a way. Another bonus of keeping a blog, for me, is getting back into writing essays, since I've completely lost that skill over the past 5 years. I used to be able to articulate my thoughts well, research a topic from all its angles, and write a 600-word essay on it without the help of AI — all thanks to my IGCSE days. I miss being able to organize my thoughts on a subject and cohesively write about it without blanking like I do now. That being said, I want to make it clear that not a single word is generated or revised by AI. That will explain the inevitable awkward phrasing or grammatical error you'll see moving forwards.So I guess those are all the personal reasons why I started this blog, even if it will be mostly casual, sparse notions on things I was thinking about. There isn't an official way to be notified when I post, but I'll be posting a story over at my Instagram when I do. So, if you've read this far, hope you stick around! :D