Tiny Brave Human

The Need to Create

When I was a kid, I was always creating things. I was a writer, an artist, a crafter, an explorer. When I graduated from college with an art degree, I pursued my need to create in a way I wasn't expecting; I joined a tech company as a software developer.

At the end of 2024, after nearly 22 years working in tech, I was laid off from my job as an engineering manager. Since then, I've done a lot of thinking. Is there still a place for me in tech? Is there still a place for tech in me? I'm tired of the noise, the greed, the lack of authenticity. In short, I've been worn down by the accelerating enshitification of a medium I used to love.

I loved the clunkiness and simplicity of the early internet. It felt democratic, accessible and vast. It felt unpolished and rebellious. In 2025, the internet feels small and highly centralized. The products and services we use are owned by a handful of companies. Instead of amplifying our human voices, the internet regurgitates an infinitely looping echo chamber of nonsense.

Until I was laid off, I wasn't entirely sure I had an identity outside of work. As I slowly recover from the trauma of the last few years, I've rediscovered my creativity. I've started writing again. I've started experiencing things again. It's a weird dichotomy. On one hand, I worry endlessly about my lack of employment. On the other hand, I enjoy having the space to be myself.

I honestly have no idea what's next for me. I have difficulty seeing where I fit into an increasingly dehumanizing world. The job descriptions I read are joyless and indistinguishable from one another. They sound punitive instead of aspirational. So I've written my own job description:

Description: Looking for a human to create something meaningful.

Qualification:

Anyone hiring?