I Sound Stupid

The last two weeks have been a bit crazy — full of highs and lows. I've been building features, fixing bugs, shadowing teammates, and even doing some data entry. But the thing I’ve struggled with most wasn’t the work itself — its been my fear of sounding stupid.

At my first software dev job, asking for help came naturally. I didn’t know much, and I knew I didn’t know much. That self-awareness made it easy to approach more experienced teammates without feeling dumb. I had built strong relationships, earned a positive reputation during my apprenticeship, and proved myself through leadership and successful features. At my new job, I don’t have any of that yet.

Let me preface this by saying the three senior engineers I work with are great. They’re not judgmental and fully understand where I’m at in my career. They know I’m still learning, and they’ve offered help generously and without judgment. Everything I’m about to describe is the result of imposter syndrome, embarrassment, and frustration with myself — not anything they've done wrong.

Because I haven’t yet earned a reputation or built strong relationships here, I feel a ton of pressure to prove myself. And ironically, that pressure has made me look less capable.

I try to do everything myself. I spend hours trying to parse the code instead of just asking one of the seniors to give me a quick overview. I chase my tail down rabbit holes, only to finally ask for help and realize I was completely off course. I take on too many tasks at once — so many that when someone asks what I’m working on, I can’t clearly explain any of it because my brain is fried from juggling too much.

In trying to look smart and capable, I’ve ended up showcasing how inexperienced I am.

That realization hit hard — especially when, after trying to explain my work in a meeting, two senior devs admitted they completely zoned out because my explanation was that bad. That moment left me bitter and frustrated for most of the day. But then I remembered something I was told years ago.

I was having drinks with a Canadian chemistry professor named Jeff. I had shared how nervous I was about sounding stupid while trying to learn a new language. In response Jeff told me how he learned French in his late 20s after landing his first teaching gig at a university in Quebec — even though he barely spoke it.

For about a year, he would ask his colleagues questions on material he was supposed to teach in broken French, they’d respond fluently, and he'd catch what little he could before heading back to his office to make sense of it. He said he felt and sounded stupid almost every day. One colleague even told him, in English, “We will never have a real conversation in French.”

A year later, that same colleague and Jeff were chatting fluently in French. Jeff reminded him of what he had said — “YOU said we’d never do this!” — and they both laughed.

Then Jeff looked at me, sipped his Negroni, and said:
“If you’re willing to sound stupid for a year... you can learn to do anything.”

That piece of advice has stuck with me more than any other phrase I have read or heard in my entire life. It’s what gave me the courage to get into software engineering in the first place, coming from the military with zero experience or transferable technical skills. And in the whirlwind of this new role, I had forgotten that lesson. But now it’s back at the front of my mind — and it’s helping me come to terms with how I’ve been approaching things and making it easier to ask for help. In time I will gain the positive reputation and strong relationships I crave here.

Until then, I am going to look stupid and I am going to sound stupid. And that’s okay.

Because if you’re willing to sound stupid for a year, you really can learn to do anything.