To Broken Code [and other things]


I would have never dared to call myself a coder even a month ago. Now I’m barely enticed by sleep just to fix one more line of code. Just one more. The beauty of learning a new skill is acquiring a love for pitfalls. I would not understand CSS or Javascript at the level that I do now, if I hadn’t wrestled with it for days, fixing and re-fixing the same section of my site until it looked like I wanted it to. If it had magically fallen into place the first time, I wouldn’t have been compelled to pore over MDN articles, CSS Tricks, or lurk through StackOverflow. In that process, not only did I cement what I didn’t know, I also ran into possibilities and concepts for future projects.

Because of my broken code I will go far, not in spite of it.

Thinking about code and learning and life is cathartic.

There is a release of tension, knowing that what has happened has a purpose. The difficulties, the rejections, the moment when we feel something is broken, sometimes irreparably. The no’s, the opportunities missed, and the curves in the road lead us to now. If I hadn’t faced rejections down career paths that didn’t excite me, I wouldn’t get to code. If I hadn’t faced a period of turmoil and frightening financial instability this year, I would eventually have started coding but not with the zeal and passion I have now. If I hadn’t been rejected by my other school of choice, I wouldn’t even be thinking about code. If I hadn’t done a thousand things I wouldn’t be here now.

It’s important to see our suffering as a blessing in disguise, as the thorns along a golden path.

You are going to where you need to go and it will feel dysfunctional and terrifying, but let yourself look back at those moments that felt impossible and bless the stars that they allowed you to become the you that is reading this now. Just don’t let those pitfalls be merely pitfalls:

They are lessons, catalysts, a new wind inside your sails, they will scare you into the next iteration of you.

Are you ready?