Have you ever worked so hard, built so much, and learned so many things that when you talk about it, people think you’re lying? That’s been my reality for years. And the most frustrating part? The very people who should recognize my work are the ones questioning whether it’s even real.
Let me tell you my story. Not for validation, not for sympathy, but because I know there are others out there feeling the exact same way. Invisible. Undervalued. Doubted.
The Portfolio Nobody Believes
Since 2016, I’ve been building. Not just coding, but truly building an ecosystem of contributions across the tech landscape. Here’s what I’ve created:
- Browser extensions that solve real problems
- npm packages used by developers worldwide
- NuGet packages for the .NET community
- PowerShell Gallery contributions
- VS Code extensions that enhance developer productivity
- Private projects that showcase innovation and experimentation
- Active participation in open-source communities
But that’s just the technical side. While building all of this, I was also:
- Delivering sessions and talks at various events
- Mentoring aspiring developers
- Judging hackathons and evaluating innovative projects
- Teaching multiple subjects at private colleges in Nepal
- Working a full-time job
- Taking on freelancing projects
Read that list again. All of this. Simultaneously. Not sequentially. Not over decades. But happening at the same time, year after year.
And you know what people say? “You’re showing off.” “That’s impossible.” “You must be making this up.”
The New Era: Whole Stack, Not Just Full Stack
Here’s what most people don’t understand: we’re living in a new era. The old playbook where you master one technology stack and coast on it for years? That’s dead. The modern tech landscape demands something different. It demands what I call being “whole stack” rather than just “full stack.”
Full stack means you know frontend and backend. Whole stack means you understand the entire ecosystem: development, deployment, distribution, community engagement, teaching, mentoring, and continuous innovation across multiple platforms and technologies.
This isn’t about being a jack of all trades and master of none. This is about being excellent across multiple domains because the modern tech world requires it. When you build an npm package, you need to understand JavaScript ecosystems. When you create a NuGet package, you dive into .NET. When you develop VS Code extensions, you’re working with TypeScript and extension APIs. Each of these isn’t surface-level knowledge. It’s deep, practical expertise proven by real contributions that people actually use.
The Reality of Multitasking at This Scale
Teaching multiple subjects at private colleges while holding down a full-time job isn’t about showing off. It’s about passion, dedication, and yes, financial necessity. In Nepal, many of us juggle multiple roles because we have to, but also because we want to make an impact beyond our 9-to-5.
Every evening class I taught, every freelance project I delivered, every open-source contribution I made was done on my own time. Weekends weren’t for rest; they were for building, learning, teaching, and growing.
But here’s the cruel irony: all of this work, all of this proof, all of this public contribution, and recruiters still ask, “Can you really do all of this?” Some even suggest I’m fabricating my experience.
The Weight of Being Doubted
Research shows that up to 75 percent of professionals experience imposter syndrome at some point in their careers. But what happens when the imposter syndrome isn’t coming from within, but from external voices constantly questioning your reality?
I share my work publicly. My contributions are on GitHub, npm, NuGet, PowerShell Gallery. They’re not hidden. They’re not fabricated. They’re real, tangible, and verifiable. Yet somehow, this transparency becomes a weakness. “He talks about his work too much.” “He’s always posting about what he’s built.” “Nobody can do all that.”
The truth is simple: I’ve given my best. I don’t give up easily. I’ve been experimenting, building, teaching, and contributing since 2016. Every single item on my portfolio exists because I created it, often while others were relaxing or sleeping.
Why Recognition Matters
Here’s what keeps me up at night: recruiters are in my network. They can see my work. They can verify every claim I make. Yet there’s still this wall of skepticism. Why?
Is it because my experience doesn’t fit the traditional mold? Is it because I’ve worked at multiple companies rather than staying at one for a decade? Is it because I’ve done too much, and that somehow makes it less believable?
The modern job market is broken in a fundamental way. We’re told to be entrepreneurial, to build in public, to contribute to open source, to continuously learn. But when we actually do all of that, we’re met with suspicion instead of appreciation.
Research confirms this disconnect. According to a 2024 survey, 50 percent of employees say it’s harder to find a job now than it was the previous year, despite having more skills and experience than ever before. The paradox is real: the more you do, the less believable you become.
The Teaching Factor: A Hidden Strength
One thing that should be obvious but somehow isn’t: if I can teach multiple subjects across different institutions, that demonstrates something critical. It shows I can communicate complex concepts clearly. It proves I can mentor and guide others. It indicates I have the patience and skill to help junior developers grow.
In any organization, these are invaluable traits. Someone who can code AND teach means they can onboard new team members, create documentation, conduct knowledge transfer sessions, and elevate the entire team’s capabilities.
But instead of seeing this as an asset, some recruiters see it as a distraction. “Why were you teaching if you had a full-time job?” The question itself reveals the problem: they can’t fathom that someone might have the energy, passion, and time management skills to do both excellently.
To Everyone Who Feels Invisible
If you’re reading this and nodding along, feeling seen for the first time in a while, know this: you’re not alone. There are countless talented professionals who have built incredible things, contributed meaningfully, and continuously improved themselves, only to be met with doubt and dismissal.
The statistics paint a clear picture. Studies show that 65 percent of professionals report symptoms of imposter syndrome, with interview rejection making it exponentially worse. Every “no” chips away at your confidence. Every skeptical question makes you doubt whether your achievements even matter.
But here’s what I’ve learned: the work matters. The contributions are real. The impact is genuine. Just because someone doesn’t recognize it doesn’t make it any less valuable.
What Comes Next
This is Part 1 of a three-part series. I’m not just here to vent my frustrations, though they’re valid. I’m here to shine a light on a bigger problem in how we evaluate talent, how we judge career trajectories, and how we fail to recognize the new breed of professionals who don’t fit the old templates.
Next week, I’ll tackle the elephant in the room: the job-hopping stigma. Why do recruiters ask “Why did you change jobs every year?” instead of asking “What did you learn at each place?” Why is loyalty measured in years spent rather than value created?
For now, I’ll leave you with this: if your reality seems too extraordinary for others to believe, maybe the problem isn’t with your reality. Maybe it’s with their limited perspective of what’s possible.
Keep building. Keep learning. Keep proving them wrong. Not for their validation, but for your own growth.
Stay tuned for Part 2: “The Job-Hopping Myth: Why Growth Seekers Are Punished” – coming next Monday at 8:00 AM.
