“Well… How did I get here?”

I’m a month into my first software development job. It’s also my first office job, after nine years on and off in the food service industry. Let me tell you, it’s surreal. I never thought I would find myself behind a desk, in a button up, sipping coffee– let alone getting paid to write code.

Lots of the changes are very welcome. My coworkers are kind and supportive. My workplace has solar panels and native flowers everywhere. There’s free coffee, and I’m making money by using my brain. And for the first time, I have written protection against discrimination for being trans.

"Am I right? Am I wrong?"

However, part of me feels very conflicted. A pang of dysphoria hits me each time I catch my reflection wearing a button-up. It’s a stark difference from my not-so-distant past, when I had a neon orange mullet, and dressed to express myself.

I’m one of the only ones in my department that doesn’t have a computer science degree. I’ve had to stop myself from mentioning my queerness, or that I used to live in my car. I’m learning that some things that are better left unsaid.

I also wonder how my past self would feel about my current reality. Would he be impressed? Appalled? Excited? Would his rebellious heart break into a million pieces?

"My God! What have I done?!"

My least favorite part of this job has been how much time it consumes. That’s time I could be doing art, enjoying myself, travelling the world, or giving back to my community. The shame I previously felt for being unemployed has morphed into shame for wasting my days as a cog in the capitalist machine.

I don’t want to make money for a global corporation, especially one that’s been under public scrutiny for its attacks on free speech. It pains me to dim my authenticity in the office, for a mission I wholeheartedly oppose.

"Same as it ever was"

Amidst the confusion, I think there are some healthy takeaways from my first month in the office. Firstly, this life doesn’t have to suit me. I can choose a new path whenever I want. I can take my time in deciding if the stability it gives is worth the freedom it takes away.

I can also choose to frame it as a learning experience about my values and place in the world. It can be a strange adventure, just like my life has always been. And this one could hold great rewards, as long as I keep an open mind.