It’s August 5th, 2025, and I’m sitting here, staring at my computer screen, a degree in Computer Science tucked away in a drawer somewhere. You’d think with that piece of paper, well-paying tech jobs would be lining up. But that’s not my reality.
My days are a mix of part-time gigs that barely cover rent, often unrelated to the complex algorithms and coding languages I spent years mastering. It’s exhausting, frankly. I see friends who went into different fields, maybe something more ‘practical’ they say, doing just fine. Meanwhile, I’m juggling jobs, trying to make ends meet, living paycheck to paycheck.
There’s this constant pressure, this feeling of being undervalued. I know I’m capable. I can build websites, I understand data structures, I can debug code. But somehow, that translates into a minimum-wage retail position or a data entry role that drains the life out of me. The disconnect between the education and the opportunities feels like a cruel joke.
It’s more than just wanting a fancy car or a big house. It’s about stability. It’s about not having that knot of anxiety in your stomach every time a bill arrives. It’s about having the freedom to pursue passions, to maybe even create art or write a blog post without worrying if you can afford groceries next week.
I’ve tried networking, I’ve tailored my resume a hundred times, I’ve taken online courses to keep my skills sharp. Still, the entry-level positions often require years of experience, or they offer salaries that don’t even cover the cost of my student loans, let alone living in a city like Brooklyn.
This isn’t a complaint about the field of computer science itself. I still believe in the power of technology. It’s the struggle to find a place within it, a place that values the investment made in education, that’s the real frustration. It’s the sheer exhaustion of the grind when you know you’re capable of more. And it’s the quiet anger that comes from seeing potential go unrealized, day after day.