Sometimes, I wonder if I’m more of a developer than a person. Where does the job end, and where do I begin?
Let me rewind a bit. I’m Simone, but at work, everyone calls me Sim. My British colleagues find my Italian name a bit of a mouthful, and I’ve grown to like the simplicity of Sim, the web developer. In fact, I sometimes feel like I can refer to him in the third person—he’s a well-regarded professional, a solid colleague, and, for some reason, people trust him with complex projects. He seems confident, competent, and capable.
But here’s the thing: the way others see me and the way I see myself don’t quite match. Some might call it impostor syndrome; others, chronic insecurity. To me, it just feels like we’re talking about two different people.
Outside of work, I’m quite the opposite—shy, not very sociable, and hesitant to step out of my comfort zone. I’d rather sit on the couch with a book or watch a football match than push myself into unfamiliar social situations. Anxiety often takes control, making me feel vulnerable and, at times, even broken. But Sim, the web developer? He thrives on challenges. He enjoys diving into unknown territory, learning new things, and collaborating with colleagues—things I rarely do with my own friends. (Sorry if you’re reading this, I promise I’ll try to be better.)
At times, it feels like a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde situation, except I’m not fully in control of when the switch happens. I often get complimented for my work, yet I struggle to accept it. When new opportunities arise, I always feel like I stumbled into them by sheer luck rather than merit. As if, any moment now, I’ll be exposed as a fraud. And the worst part? Even when people are genuinely kind and encouraging, I have a hard time believing them.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not here for a self-pity session. I’m simply using this space for a bit of self-reflection. Maybe, just maybe, someone else out there feels the same way.
I find my lack of self-belief frustrating. I’d love to be more confident, to approach my work without the weight of unnecessary stress. But at the same time, I’ve started to wonder if this insecurity—the very thing that makes me doubt myself—is also what pushes me forward.
Think about it. Because I never assume I have all the answers, I approach my work with humility. I never walk into a project thinking I’m the savior, nor do I interact with colleagues from a place of superiority. I ask questions, double-check my assumptions, and remain open to learning from even the smallest details. Maybe that’s why I’ve progressed in my career—because I never let myself get too comfortable.
Sure, if I could erase my self-doubt, I’d save myself from plenty of sleepless nights, from pounding anxiety before tackling certain tasks, from conversations where I feel like a clueless newbie. But would I also lose the thing that’s kept me sharp? The thing that’s taken me from an intern to working on massive projects?
Maybe the real challenge isn’t eliminating self-doubt, but learning to live with it. To acknowledge it, even respect it, without letting it paralyze me. Maybe, instead of constantly questioning whether I belong, I should try giving myself an opportunity to shine.
And maybe, just maybe, I should start believing Sim, the web developer, isn’t such a bad guy after all.