Introduction
Hey everyone! I’m stepping out of the shadows and making my very first post here on DEV.to.
After a seven-year hiatus from the traditional tech world, I am officially booting back up. I’m writing this because I know how easy it is to get caught up in the endless loop of the tech career ladder—and I want to share what happens when you decide to deliberately step off it, and what it takes to step back in.
The Flagpole and the Ledger: How I Got Out
I liked to celebrate the "final day" at a job.
The packing of the cardboard box, the awkward cake in the breakroom, the sudden, terrifying plunge into freedom.
I had those days... but when i finally stepped away from tech it wasn't like that.
My exit from the matrix didn't happen in an office; it happened on a yacht in Greece. I was twenty-six, still freshly armed with a computer science degree, working a fully remote contract for a startup. My memory of that transition isn't a boardroom—it is a smartphone shoved inside a plastic bag, tied to a flagpole, and hoisted into the Aegean sky just so I could catch a fragile 4G hotspot. I sat on the deck typing code half a world away, watching older friends sail the boat, and realizing I didn't want to buy into the grand illusion of the corporate ladder.
The Pragmatic Math
To understand how I walked away, you have to look at the unglamorous numbers. In my five years in tech, my income scaled from $50k to $85k, and finally topping out over $120k in just a few years.
When most twenty-something engineers hit those numbers, a predictable script plays out:
- They sign leases on high-rise condos.
- They buy new cars.
- They immediately inflate their cost of living, building a more luxurious cage.
I refused to play that part. As my income doubled, my lifestyle stayed frozen. I lived in the cheaper parts of town, drove my old car, and spent money exactly like a broke student. Every spare dollar bypassed consumer traps and went straight into my investments.
I didn't buy a condo. I bought my life back.
Mariachis, Crocodiles, and the Chevy Van
I packed my life into a bag and moved to Mexico, letting that illusion of total freedom run wild for six years.
The dream of the flawless "digital nomad" met reality fast. I would be on an important call with a high-stakes client, only for a Mariachi band to burst through a café door, forcing me to awkwardly mute my laptop and reschedule.
Eventually, around 2020, the company I worked for hit financial turbulence. They handed me a sterile goodbye note, told me to ship my laptop directly to my replacement's house in the UK, and just like that, the last digital chain was broken.
What followed was what I call my "shaman years." * I bought an old 1985 Chevy van, retrofitted it for camping, and took off into the mountains with a dog.
- My hair grew long, my beard went wild, and my internal landscape shifted entirely away from code and logic.
- I became so immersed in breathwork, meditation, and exploring the spirit world that the concept of a financial future completely evaporated. I felt a profound certainty that I just needed to exist.
The Return to Earth: Why I'm Back
A dream is a beautiful place to visit, but if you stay too long, it becomes a cage of its own. After a few years, life in paradise began to loop. The lawless freedom felt repetitive.
The turning point wasn't a financial crisis; it was a deeply profound realization about what I wanted next out of life. I realized I wanted roots. I wanted a family. I wanted to look into the eyes of my own children and teach them how to navigate the world. And to do that, I had to learn how to provide for them.
That realization pulled me all the way across the Atlantic to rediscover my roots in Romania, and eventually took me on an idyllic detour to Palermo, Sicily. And sitting in a chaotic Sicilian apartment, looking out at the world, I fell down the rabbit hole of AI, development, and business once again. The circle was completing itself.
Waking Up
When I was twenty-six, I thought retirement meant escaping work forever. I thought it meant hiding from society.
Now, looking back at that kid who hoisted his phone up a flagpole in Greece, I smile. He needed to run. He needed to live in a van and play the shaman just to realize who he actually was.
I’m back in reality now. The money isn't infinite, and the spreadsheets matter again. But I didn't lose those seven years—they are baked into my bones.
I’m returning to the world of dev and business, not because I have to build a cage, but because I’m ready to build something meaningful. ***
I'd love to hear from the community: Have any of you taken a radical career break? How did you navigate the psychological shift of jumping back into tech after being away? Let me know what parts of this story you wanna know more about.