Tech Chose Me

My Journey Into the Working World: From Uncertainty to Finding My Voice

Welcome to my very first blog article! I’ve decided to use this space to share my story, piece by piece, starting with my career journey: where I came from, what I went through, and what I learned. I’ll also be throwing in some random thoughts along the way. I hope you enjoy the read!

The Early Days: Searching for a Starting Point

Growing up in an Arab country, I wasn’t exactly surrounded by examples of what it meant for a woman to truly succeed. The goal was never about ambition, growth, or entrepreneurship—it was about getting a job, sticking with it, and earning just enough to be called "independent." Independent not because you were making moves or building something meaningful, but because you spent your own money on your own shopping. That was the narrative.

I majored in finance, not because I loved it, but because it felt like the safest choice. My first internship was at a bank, and it was awful. Toxic, competitive, and soul-crushing. Whether it was just that workplace or the entire industry, I didn’t care to find out. I decided then and there: finance was not for me.

Breaking the Loop: A Chance in Tech

After graduation, I found myself in the same trap many fresh grads fall into: jobs requiring experience I didn’t have. It was a vicious, illogical loop—how do you get experience without someone first giving you a chance?

Eventually, a small tech startup took a leap of faith and hired me. That moment changed everything. I joined a team of eight male engineers. I was the youngest, shortest (5’1”!), and the only woman. On my first day, they held an all-hands meeting to welcome me. Sitting in that circle, I wanted to burst out laughing—it felt surreal. But oddly, I felt safe.

That company was the first place where I truly felt like I belonged. We had our ups and downs, sure, but we were a family. I realized that tech, as intimidating as it might seem, was where I could thrive. I felt seen, heard, and empowered to speak up, even in a male-dominated environment.

I pushed myself outside my comfort zone, tried on different "hats," and volunteered for projects I knew nothing about—but wanted to learn. When the company started expanding, I found myself stepping into HR, and I never looked back.

Eventually, I was proud to say I hired many strong, qualified women—ones who weren’t just looking for a paycheck, but for purpose. That felt good. That felt important.

Falling Into HR: Not Just People, But Purpose

HR gets a bad rep, and I’ll admit, it can be rough. But when you’re building a company you love and hiring people who believe in the mission? It’s magic.

There’s nothing like convincing an overqualified candidate to take a leap from a cushy corporate job into a fast-paced startup. Or watching candidate light up when they hear about the impact a small team has made. HR feels amazing when you’re thinking about people’s well-being, creating meaningful benefits, or organizing events that bring people together.

But then comes peer-review season—and things get tough. No one likes being judged, especially not by coworkers or the person who may impact their raise. And the darkest days? Downsizing.

Letting someone go is the hardest part of HR. The first time I had to do it, I got through the day, then went home, crawled under the covers, and cried my heart out. Over time, it didn’t get easier—I just got better at compartmentalizing. No more tears, but plenty of stress-eating (weird combos included).

HR professionals get called a lot of names: People Police, Dream Crushers, Culture Cops, Wicked Witches of the West. People forget that we’re often just the messengers and implementers of tough decisions made at the top.

And yet, we carry it. All of it.

From Letting Go to Lifting Up

One of the most eye-opening moments in my HR career was watching the film Up in the Air with George Clooney. I remember thinking, "Why isn’t this the norm? Why don’t companies partner with agencies to help counsel and re-home laid-off employees?" It wouldn't erase the pain, but it would ease the blow.

I understood both sides—the people affected and the leadership making the call. And being in the middle gave me a unique perspective. HR isn't black or white; it's a balancing act of empathy, boundaries, and business.

Wearing All the Hats, and Then Some

That first startup became my home for about five years. I built HR processes from scratch, created handbooks, handled hiring and executive planning, managed internal conflicts, oversaw maternity leaves, and even organized group events.

Every new challenge brought anxiety: Am I good enough? Will I screw this up? Should I quit before I ruin something?

But I stayed. I learned. I failed sometimes, and I kept going. I didn’t always get appreciated. I almost never heard a "thank you." But I knew I was doing meaningful work. And I loved it.

Back then, equality for women was still a growing conversation in many countries. And while I often felt exhausted and under appreciated, I also felt proud. That startup gave me a voice, and I used it.

To this day, I carry gratitude for everyone I worked with during that time. Even the rough days taught me something. I wouldn’t be who I am without that first chance. So here I am, telling this story. And this is only the beginning.

Thanks for reading. More stories coming soon – from lessons I’ve learned, to the random thoughts in my head that might just resonate with you. Stay tuned.