Thread by @jakefriend_dev

One year ago today, I left my last job. On Monday I start my first day as a full-time #indiedev. Threading some thoughts in reflection, and on the hardest choice I had to make to pursue my gamedev dream. Long.

Leaving my old job was one of the harder professional choices I've made. In a lot of ways, it was really REALLY great - engaging, great team, Toronto tech industry pay. I was doing business consulting, and was also formally taking over the internal operations team in May.

But every time I needed the company to be there for me... it just wasn't. I kept being assigned the roughest 2-person projects on my own, and every time I tried to break to shake the burnout I would get new work instead. It could never wait, but apparently, my well-being could.

The tipping point was when a significant promotion was cancelled - but no one told me. I asked about it, and found out I could still have it "if I wanted.." but they wouldn't tell anyone, and my pay wouldn't change, and I'd still have to do my old work as well. "Promotion". Yeah.

I was burned out, and more meaningfully, felt abandoned. Voicing this just led to being assigned to work UK hours... from my Toronto apartment, where my desk was next to our bed. My management team did genuinely care about me, but the corporation always, always came first.

So I left. My partner encouraged me to, and even suggested that because of how impossible getting work was going to be during the first few months of the pandemic that I take a real break first before starting to look for something. It was really healing.

We thought it would take 6 mths, maybe 9, maybe longer until I found something. We managed our spending to try and hold steady on just her income. But despite a very strong resume, when ex-directors are applying to mgr roles and ex-mgrs are going for entry-level, it was... hard.

Scrabdackle was just a hobby project then. Something I was doing as practice to learn the Godot engine. I was just sharing it with one IRL friend. All my past projects were small personal things; I didn't think I'd even want to make a main menu much less release a demo.

I had to be convinced of every step by people I met while making it. First to share the game publically, then to make a Discord, then to go for a Kickstarter. I'm grateful for that persuasion; this door really wouldn't have cracked opened without that encouragement.

But all the while, I was still looking for work. The idea of getting income from crowdfunding for a scribbly game seemed ridicuous, barely plausible. I had to keep seeking more security. And it came to a head right before the KS campaign launched.

My partner and I had a plan: Move towards a Kickstarter in March while still having job hunting be my main priority. If I got a good offer, I'd take it. I didn't really talk about this publically - you don't really build hype by saying you're hedging your bets. But it was safer.

By early Feb we decided to lock it in: The Kickstarter was for sure happening. But the job hunt continued at the same time. My previous interviews had been so slow that we thought I could position any start dates for end of April, as a fallback if the KS failed. Seemed plausible.

But then, in mid February, while I was pulling crazy hours trying to get the KS prep done, I got an interview for one of the best tech companies in Toronto. Cutting edge. Consulting for AI systems. Completely in my area of experience, and they wanted me.

I've never had an interview go so well. Mid-conversation they wanted to consider me for the consulting team manager. Me, who had been trying to find *anything* for a year. They told me I could probably take my pick of jobs based on my skill set. And they wanted to move FAST.

They liked me and wanted me to know it. They were expediting my application process down to about a week for all 4 steps. I got asked to do a 'take home assignment' building an AI bot the same weekend I had set aside for my KS page approval due date. It was insane.

I didn't really have time to take it on on top of the KS work, but I did. It was with their in-house tool, and was really fun. It was clear if I took the job I'd love the work, and secretly I kind of hoped my bot would suck so that I wouldn't have to choose between it & the KS.

But it didn't. Their engineer review team thought I did great. In fact, when they had previously said there was no hurry to start and were flexible, now they wanted to push for me to start March 15th. The day before my KS launch.

I thought I would have more time to decide. They cold-called me. There would be a last call with a founder just as part of the process, but if I wanted it, it was mine. My KS pre-launch page was already live, and I still had to choose.

It's easy enough to choose a KS when there doesn't seem to be alternative options. It's impossible to when a dream job that wants you is on the other scale. And I had to decide right then, right when they asked on the call out of nowhere.

...and I said no.

I can't remember the last time I'd cried. Usually when I'm sad or emotional I just feel numb. I went to go tell my SO. I started tearing up. Had I just made the stupidest decision of my life? Did I just give up a great career for an indie long-shot, under a tight budget?

The 4th day of my Kickstarter was the lowest I've been in the last year. We had zero pledges from 8am to 11pm when I stopped checking. I had just posted some big exciting posts to reddit that were doing great, but no backers. It didn't make sense. What else could I *do*?

When you look at campaigns that get great funding after the fact, it often looks like it was a straight path towards 2000% or whatever. In the moment, it's terrifying; every pledge is your last and you might be publically failing in slow motion RIGHT NOW. I thought that was me.

When you're promoting your stuff, you kind of have to stay positive (because if you don't sound excited, why should anyone else be?). I was trying to keep pushing, but inside it felt like I had given up the perfect job for a chance to fall even farther.

But here's the thing. I can *always* apply for corporate work again some day. It'll be there. And if I left again, they'd easily replace me.

I said no to a great job. But it was just a job.

And I would *never* have gotten this chance again.

I'm glad I chose it. It was so, so hard, but I'm so glad. And if I have to go back to corporate work one day, so be it. I get my chance.

For the next year, I will be working for me.

Thank you everyone for helping me get there.

/thread