from Google to an open source startup

It felt just like yesterday where my coworkers and I were shoveling chocolate chip cookies from MixIt into our pockets and biodegradable cups to take home.

We convinced ourselves it only made sense to do, to take advantage of the benefits of working at Google since we were all contractors — half of us without health insurance and half of us about to have our jobs shipped out to the Philippines, but all of us trying to figure out our next career moves.

I had left a terrible job at Booking.com at the time and luckily with the right connections, I had landed a 6+ month contract with an agency who had great ties to the most famous search engine. Without a doubt, I moved my life down to Sunnyvale, where I began my role as a Community Specialist at Google. The power of my new title was immense; I felt like my friends and family were in awe of me being able to land this role. Except my mom — she thought it was complete bullshit. She didn’t believe me until I sent her a photo of me at work with a Google sign and my badge.

Within a few months, I had recruiters constantly messaging me on LinkedIn trying to utilize my connections or land me another role. At that time, I had already mastered my role, which was providing product support via Twitter and the forum channels. It soon became repetitive and disheartening since I dealt with negative customers and idiotic trolls all day. We were responding to 100+ tweets and closing out 500+ tweets per day like robotic monkeys pushing a button. Members of my team would take two hour lunches and do the bare minimum — the lack of motivation was contagious.

My head spun and I began counting down the hours until I could go home. I would get bored, so I’d sit in the canteen and eat. Weight ensued. Wanting a chance to find more meaningful work, I tried to seek out ways to do more. Doing so, I soon found a big red flag, which was that full-timers could not mentor or provide support to contractors. Our manager said she was not allowed to support us career-wise. I felt like I could never really connect or talk with a full-timer on the team, especially since priorities were elsewhere and I was just another number. Plus, we seldom had access to them. There was an apparent divide between contractors and full-time staff. It even showed with our glaringly red contractor badges. My excitement at Google began to wane.

I quickly got bored, feeling like an end was coming and conversion was impossible. I had even interviewed for a full-time role at Google to see if I could try something new, but was rejected after the second round and given no feedback for my rejection. I was bewildered and it went downhill from there. It was shortly announced that our roles were being shipped overseas and not wanting to wait until my contract ended, I decided to start looking for jobs. I was referred to another role at a startup and had an interview the next day. After that, I came into their office, met them in person, and given an offer immediately. I was torn for the next few days — would it make sense to move back to San Francisco for Google to work at a startup? I had only lived in Sunnyvale for 5 months and was already accustomed to the luxurious tech shuttles, the unlimited free food, the onsite gym, and everything else Google had to offer. It was so nice to have.

But I knew I was unhappy for a reason. I was almost borderline depressed and I wasn’t growing anymore. So I made the jump and left.

People thought I was hasty and stupid.

You left Google?? Damn right I did and I have no idea what I’m doing, but taking risk is better than being complacent.

I started my role at the open source startup, helping my team build out a developer program and planning community events. During the first week, I thought I had made a big mistake. The office was always too quiet and full of engineers. People kept their heads down and worked, often with no interaction with each other. I had no idea what my team was talking about when they threw around these technical terms and I felt like such a misfit. Someone in a leadership role asked what degree I needed to plan events and laughed at his own joke. In my mind, I screamed at his idiocy. I had just left my job for this one and got mocked. I went home, feeling overwhelmed and cried.

But I stuck it through, seeing as I had just uprooted my entire life back to San Francisco and it was only a few weeks.

I slowly began to realize the high caliber of the people I worked with, the passion and drive they fostered, and appreciated the chance they took on me. The office was quiet, but it was because people were at their desks working hard. My team, specifically, inspired me to work harder. Arriving from prestigious and notable backgrounds, my colleagues were well-rounded and smarter than any folks I’ve worked with. My manager pushed me to take ownership of projects, encouraged me to talk to leaders in the company, and even had me participate in cross functional meetings with teams. I was never belittled by my team, I was seen as their equal. I had weekly 1:1s with my manager and our team meetings were incredibly transparent. I had been given the opportunity to grow and contribute, something that was painfully missing at my contract with Google. I will always appreciate my time there, especially since it had been a huge help in my job search, but I would never contract with them again.

My team has shown me nothing but encouragement and belief in my capabilities. But I guess the thing I love the best at being at this startup specifically is being able to have ownership of my own projects and running wild with it. I love building out my own processes. Even though I make mistakes here and there, my team has only believed in me and gives me constant feedback so I can grow and develop professionally. In a company full of wildly talented and driven folks, my team had taken a chance on a millennial who just needed someone to believe in her.

I’m glad I made the leap.