I’m the only software engineer in my family. That’s not a flex—it’s context.
It means no one around me really understands what I do, how difficult it can be, or why some days I walk away from my computer feeling completely wiped out.
Not tired in a “my legs hurt” way. Tired in the kind of way where words feel heavier than they should, and even small decisions start to irritate you.
On those days, I’ll finally step away after hours of researching, troubleshooting, and building— often all at the same time—and say, “I’m exhausted.”
The usual response I get is a genuinely confused: “With what?”
That question is usually well-intentioned (I hope). It’s not meant to be dismissive (I’d like to think). But it seriously pisses me off 😑
It reveals a gap that shows up everywhere from family dinners to casual conversations and, even, in how people talk about tech work in general.
If you can’t see someone lifting something heavy, it’s easy to assume they aren’t working very hard.
So I’ve learned to shorten my explanations. I say “I work in tech” or “I’m a developer” and let people fill in the blanks themselves. Unfortunately, the blanks are usually wrong 😔
These are ten common assumptions I hear most often and why they miss the mark. Maybe they’ll help you not annoy the hairs off any hardworking engineer in your life.
1. “So You Just Sit on a Computer All Day”
Technically, yes. Practically, that sentence erases everything that actually makes the job difficult.
From the outside, it looks like I’m just sitting there. Typing. Staring. Pausing occasionally, as if nothing is happening.
And, guess what? More often than not, I may even be talking aloud. Not dictating or voice recording, but purely talking the problem out. Sometimes it’s rubber ducking; many times it’s keeping me sane.
What you don’t see is the constant mental juggling:
- tracing bugs across files
- researching unfamiliar edge cases
- deciding whether a problem needs a workaround or a rethink
- keeping track of the consequences of every small decision
A lot of my work happens before anything visible changes. Some days are spent entirely figuring out why something is broken rather than fixing it.
Other days, I’m building while researching the thing I’m building, because the right approach isn’t obvious yet. It’s an ongoing process that is difficult to grasp and explain due to how hard it is.
To someone watching, it looks passive. To the person doing it, it’s relentless. There’s no autopilot; you can’t half-pay attention and still do it well.
Sitting doesn’t mean resting. It just means the effort is happening somewhere less obvious.
2. “It’s Not Physical, So It’s Not That Tiring”
This one usually shows up right after I say I’m exhausted.
I’ll come downstairs at the end of the day, mentally fried, and say it out loud partly as a warning, partly as relief. Then comes the pause. The look. And finally, the question: “Exhausted with what?”
Because I didn’t lift anything. I didn’t run around. I didn’t come home sweaty or sore. So the exhaustion doesn’t register.
What’s hard to explain is that mental fatigue doesn’t spike and release the way physical tiredness does. It accumulates and lingers.
After hours of deep focus, problem-solving, and constant decision-making, your brain doesn’t just switch off because the laptop closes.
There are days when I’ve barely moved and still feel completely spent, not because I did nothing, but because I did too much at once.
I occasionally even struggle with sleep because my brain refuses to stop twisting and turning a problem every way possible to come to a path forward.
Thinking, evaluating, troubleshooting, second-guessing, refining. Often working to make something that doesn’t exist happen with what is available and on hand. It’s all exhausting.
When effort is only recognized if it’s visible, this kind of exhaustion gets dismissed despite being real and well-earned.
Related: Listen, Coding Isn’t for Everybody, and Here’s Why
3. “You Work From Home — That Must Be Nice”
It is nice, in some ways. I’m not stuck in traffic trying to make a ten-minute drive that takes a whopping hour and a half because welcome to LA.
That’s not the part that bothers me.
What gets lost is the assumption that working from home is somehow lighter with fewer expectations, more flexibility, and less pressure. As if proximity to an office is what makes work real.
When you work from home, boundaries blur quickly. There’s no commute to force a mental transition (despite all the traffic perks). No clear signal that the day is done.
Just one more thing to check, one more issue to follow up on, one more thought that keeps looping because your workspace is also your living space.
People assume availability because you’re “already home.” Interruptions feel more acceptable. And because no one is physically watching, there’s an unspoken pressure to prove you’re working by responding quickly, staying online, and being visible.
Whoever painted the picture that working from home means typing while lying on your couch with a movie blaring in the background for a total of ten minutes, then calling it a day, lied 🤥
Working from home didn’t make my job easier. It made it quieter, more concentrated, and in some ways more demanding.
Working from home required mastering new skills. I had to learn:
- How to demonstrate my worth in the quality of work I do
- How to properly communicate my work to those around me (i.e., manager, co-workers, stakeholders)
- How to prioritize beyond the usual deadline
The work didn’t shrink; it just became less visible.
4. “You’re Just Playing Around on the Computer”
This one usually comes from misunderstanding rather than judgment, but it still lands the same.
If I’m not working on a clearly defined task, it can look like I’m just “messing around.” Clicking things. Trying stuff. Building something without an obvious end goal.
What people don’t see is that a lot of my time goes into building tools, small apps, extensions, and experiments that sharpen how I think and how I work.
Sure, sometimes it can be fun and exciting, but not always so.
Not everything I build has an immediate payoff. Some of it exists because I want to understand something better or test an idea before it becomes important.
From the outside, that looks like play.
From the inside, it’s preparation.
In this field, staying still is the fastest way to fall behind. Learning isn’t something you do after work; it’s part of the work, whether it’s formally acknowledged or not.
Related: How Building Something Useful Can Help You Become Better At Coding
5. “So You Just Build What You’re Told”
There’s an assumption that developers receive a list of instructions, execute them, and move on. The thinking, apparently, happens somewhere else.
In reality, a large part of the job is deciding how something should be built, or whether it should be built at all.
It’s researching approaches, weighing tradeoffs, testing ideas that might not pan out, and occasionally pushing back when the obvious solution isn’t the right one.
Some of the most valuable work I’ve done never appeared on a roadmap or in a sprint. It happened quietly and ahead of time, often involving reading, experimenting, and thinking through edge cases no one had yet to mention.
I remember my utter surprise the first time a manager left the decision to pursue a year-long large-scale project to me. Whether shocked or terrified didn’t matter—I became the de facto decision maker.
This meant my manager (and the leadership above him) relied on the research, technical understanding, and overall analysis I would provide to allocate resources for said project.
That pre-decision work doesn’t always come with recognition because it doesn’t look like output. But it shapes everything that comes after.
6. “Aren’t You Either Frontend or Backend?”
People like clean categories. Frontend. Backend. Design. Product. Everyone is neatly staying in their lane.
Maybe at some point it was like that. Perhaps the technology world functioned in clear, delegated teams and tasks.
In practice, though, and from my experience, the lines blur constantly.
I give feedback on design because implementation exposes issues mockups can’t.
I talk through product decisions because feasibility and scope matter early, not after something’s already promised.
I think about structure and architecture because they affect everything downstream.
Coding is only part of the job. The rest is collaboration, translation, and making sure ideas survive contact with reality. It’s why AI is a great tool in helping with the coding part, but not a replacement for the orchestrator, that’s the human developer.
Reducing the role to a single label makes it easier to explain, but far less accurate.
I’ve even had potential employers turn me down based on not being one or the other. Totally laughable in 2025.
So, please, stop forcing developers to label themselves and let us be well-equipped to lead technical decision-making at its finest.
7. “You Don’t Really Seem Like a Developer”
This one is rarely said outright, but it shows up in subtler ways.
In comments about how I dress. In reactions to hoodies, comfort, or not being particularly feminine at work.
As if there’s a correct uniform for competence. As if looking casual means not taking the work seriously.
Yes, I often live in hoodies when I’m working. No, that doesn’t mean I don’t know how to dress. I can clean up just fine when the occasion calls for it.
And yes, my diet has, at times, looked suspiciously like that of a college freshman, but that’s not a personality flaw either.
I power-play with the quality of work I do, the ideas I share, the contributions I make, and the methods I communicate my work and learnings with the world around.
Comfort helps me focus. That’s the entire explanation.
8. “You Spend Too Much Time on the Computer”
This one often comes wrapped in concern, especially when it’s directed at women.
There’s an unspoken suggestion that time spent at a computer is time taken away from something more important. I’m talking relationships, social life, starting a family, and doing something more “balanced.”
As if professional dedication is a phase I should eventually grow out of.
The reality is that in this field, staying capable requires time. The landscape shifts constantly. Skills age quickly. Putting in the hours isn’t indulgence, it’s maintenance.
I’m not choosing my computer over life. I’m choosing to remain competent at the thing I do for a living.
And, how is it that male engineers don’t hear this as often as their female counterparts? 🤨
Most importantly, how do I convince my dear mother that it’s not the computer keeping me single—it’s the quality of human men available.
9. “AI Probably Does Most of Your Job Now”
This is the newest assumption, and it often comes with misplaced confidence.
AI is a tool. A useful one. It can speed things up and help with drafts or suggestions.
What it doesn’t do is understand context, constraints, or consequences. It doesn’t know why a system was built the way it was, what can safely change, or what risks are acceptable.
Someone still has to decide what’s right. Someone still owns the outcome when something breaks. That part hasn’t disappeared; it’s become more important.
It’s difficult to argue the role of AI (particularly in the engineering work world) when most people making the arguments function under umbrella terms and generic understandings.
Let’s be real—if AI was actually doing my work, then there would be no reason for my boss to keep me employed. The fact that I’m still losing sleep over issues means AI is either not doing things right or I’m still relevant.
Related: How To Navigate Imposter Syndrome When You Work With AI
10. “You Work With Computers — Can You Fix This?”
This is the one I usually laugh off (hence it being the last thing, so we end all this with smiles), even though it happens constantly.
Broken laptop. Slow Wi-Fi. A printer that refuses to cooperate. If it plugs in or lives “online”, I must know how to fix it.
I don’t. And that’s not me being difficult, it’s just not what I do.
Writing software and repairing hardware live in completely different worlds. Explaining that every time takes more energy than people expect, so sometimes I just say no and let it be awkward.
If you’re thinking it’s not that bad, then stop. You weren’t the one on a bus in the middle of some unheard of Greek town when your aunt volunteered your services to the tour guide when their Google reviews “broke down”.
It’s a Wrap
I don’t expect everyone to understand the details of my job. I know it’s abstract. I know it’s hard to picture work that doesn’t leave visible marks.
With a little embarrassment, I admit I don’t even understand my job at times because of how dynamic it is.
But I do wish people would stop minimizing what they don’t immediately recognize, especially when it comes from the people closest to me. The ones who see the long hours, the constant learning, the mental drain, yet still struggle to name it as real work.
I like what I do. I spend a lot of time and effort, including making a lot of sacrifices, to achieve and live up to my engineer title.
I’m proud of it, even when it’s exhausting.
I just wish fewer people felt so confident telling me what they think it is.
‘Till next time, friends 👋
