At the Intersection of Trauma, Empathy, and Developer Relations

L A
6 min readMay 7, 2023
Me on the couch snuggling Gary the senior pug.
Senior pug Gary did not get laid off. He got promoted to Chief Goodest Boy and a bonus of 10k Greenies.

It started out like any other week, but by Tuesday I had a funny feeling. A funny feeling like I was going to get laid off.

I have a terrible extra sense for layoffs. One time in 2015, I said to my manager, “Am I getting laid off?” And she spun around with her eyes wide and said, “How did you know we were just talking about that?” I shrugged. “I dunno, I just kinda sensed it.” Call it a trauma skill — an intuition for the shadow of danger creeping in through the door.

Well, this particular Tuesday my trauma skills had been off, but not by much. By the time I got the news on Friday, it was actually the least of my concerns. You see, I had had A Very Bad Week. One for the Mental Health Books. I did things I regret that I won’t repeat here because I know one of you crazy jerks will try to replicate it. If you know, you know.

I wish it would go away. The Bad Stuff, you know. At this point, it’s such a distraction, ugh, it’s like, so annoying. The worst hang nail. So on Friday, the metaphorical hang nail ripped clear to my elbow, I was so exhausted that getting laid off was fine. Getting laid off in 2023 is a milestone. You know, while other generations were buying houses and cars and making babies, we’re busy scrambling from one job to the next, watching LinkedIn announcement posts like falling dominoes. It’s not a question of if, but when.

I had been doing my best too. Getting work done. Work I was proud of. I felt like I was good at my job! I was committed but held firm boundaries. I was kind and open, but I didn’t overshare. I didn’t post stupid stuff in Slack. I embraced challenges and disregarded the things I could not control.

It wasn’t always developer relations work. I did a lot of project management. I did a lot of “Go out and learn this and bring the knowledge back, won’t ya?” or “Hey, can you manage this webinar at the last minute?” or “Can you finally write this blog post that’s been languishing in drafts forever?” Edit a template in Figma? Sure. Lead the sales team through a technical codelab? Absolutely. Deploy AWS Marketplace infrastructure? No problem. Write a quick script to automate social media posts? I got you.

I liked it though. It was engaging work because it was always something new and it all involved people. I know a lot of folks enjoy consistency and structure, but I have ADHD. The kind where my brain is the fidgety part. I crave novelty like a literal addiction and my fixations mean I am excited to share with anyone who will listen — or at least politely pretend to. (Thank you to everyone who managed to at least nod as I went on and on about whatever crazy side quest I had just brought the “ultimate boon” back from!)

Okay, maybe that is developer relations work. 🤔 😅

I am an introvert, but I like people. I like people a lot. Despite some of the crappy things that have happened to me at the hands of people, I believe humans are fundamentally good and always moving in the direction of kindness. Humans are my favorite animals and the inherently, frustratingly human things they do — like miscommunicate, not listen to each other, mismanage resources, not plan ahead, and create the kind of world where your healthcare is tied to your at-will employment — are what makes them endearing to me. It’s like when a cat knocks something off a table. It’s annoying, but you’re like, “Hey! That’s cats! So cute!” That’s humans for ya! So cute! Maybe if I put a sheet of aluminum foil on the counter, the humans will figure out not to jump on the hot stove! Probably not, but I am going to keep trying!

There’s one more ingredient to developer relations that you can’t do without and that’s genuine empathy. Now that’s a skill I am very, very good at and it’s actually kind of a surprise to me that I was able to make anything useful of this skill at all.

As I alluded to earlier, I have some mental health conditions that occasionally make life very challenging. I have ADHD and I have PTSD and maybe a smattering of autism for good measure. Combined, this means I fall somewhere on the spectrum of neurodiversity. I have to wear a heavier mask in order to function in the presence of most humans. I wear my anxiety and ADHD tics in the raw flesh at my cuticles, my inability to regulate my emotions in white scars on my arms and legs, my tear-flushed eyes behind foundation and concealer, and my pain behind a smile. Each day is a choice, and even on my worst days, I guess I choose to live because I am here — still. If there is one thing I am, it’s incredibly determined. Or optimistic. Or stupid. Depends on which day you ask me.

But don’t worry — none of us are truly “normal.” No, not even you! Your brain, your habits, your thoughts, and your behaviors might float closer to the surface, but even the deepest oceans can have the calmest waters. And that’s what I love about you. Every part of you is remarkably unique. No two people experience the world the same way. Perception is incredibly malleable and subjective. If you don’t believe me, just try psychedelics!

And when I get to interact with you, I get to learn something new. The empathy part tries to imagine how you see and understand the world so I can best help you arrive at the solution you need. It allows me to respond quickly to you, receive input, adjust my output, accommodate your needs, sense your frustration, and celebrate your elation.

The empathy was an ugly skill to learn. I learned it as a young person trying to predict the incongruent actions of adults. I learned it as a symptom of my ADHD. I learned it as a way to disarm harmful peers. I learned it as my burden to bear. At times, it overcame and overpowered me, and the pain of all the world was too much for one very little girl to hold.

Until recently, when I finally learned of a place where I could channel it somewhere productive: developer relations!

Suddenly my thoughtfulness for other people’s emotions was a superpower! My curiosity for the inner worlds of others was sought after! My ability to break down a complex topic and turn it into a casual conversation was a skill! The escape into writing that I used as my coping mechanism when I had no control of anything else was precious! My refusal to give up on someone — no matter who they are or where they come from or what they know — was the gift I was not given but that I could give to others.

My favorite kind of person to work with is someone with no technical background. They have the most to overcome. Technical subject matter can be downright intimidating, but it’s not the scariest thing a person can endure. If you are unfamiliar with something, there’s no reason to feel stupid. All it means is you don’t know something. That’s easy to fix. There are lots of things I don’t know. There are lots of things you could probably teach me. I would like to know about those things. My job, first and foremost, is to make those in my presence feel safe because that’s when the magic happens.

I know what it’s like to be scared. Developer relations allows me to give others the peace I wish I had and am still searching for within myself.

Originally posted on LinkedIn. You can also find my writing on Post at https://post.news/@/lizzzz.

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L A

Relentless optimist | Artist turned software developer turned developer advocate