One random day in June, I was born as a biological female somewhere in a tropical world called the Philippines.
And I’m also neurodivergent. If you don’t know what that means, congrats on your peace. Kidding. I have ADHD, which basically means my brain runs like it’s addicted to dopamine. Well… in a sense, it is. lol. Luckily for me, programming is one thing that produces a lot of it.
I’ve tried a lot of things. Name it—I’ve tried it… or at least thought about trying it at a random 3am, maybe even made it my entire personality for two weeks. I didn’t always have the best internal compass for what I “should” do in life (very on-brand for your 20s), but I always knew what I didn’t want to do.
I really didn’t want to sit in a cubicle like a corporate office robot, getting yelled at by my manager Susan who absolutely hates when I send clown emojis in after-work check-ins. I didn’t want my soul slowly siphoned away by Microsoft Teams or Outlook calendars.
Not to sound dramatic, but I’d actually rather die.
Needless to say, I’ve been jumping through hoops trying to figure life out. Fast forward to last year: I was exhausted from starting and quitting jobs, trying to find what my heart really wanted—without the weight of survival on my shoulders.
Then it hit me… I found coding (though maybe it found me first). My dad, whom I adore and deeply respect, has always been my role-model programmer. He’s been doing this longer than I’ve been alive, and watching him growing up made coding feel familiar—almost like home. I love you, Dad.
Right now, I’m a tiny speck in the universe of the World Wide Web. I won’t live forever, but I hope my code does. In case that’s a little ambitious, at the very least I want to use this skill to create things that make me—and other people—happy.
And to my cat Inky: you’re forever in my heart.