I started coding when I was 10 years old - my parents (with no CS background) thought it would be an interesting thing for me to try, so they set me up on KhanAcademy's JavaScript course.

I was immediately hooked. I quickly learned the fundamentals of programming on KhanAcademy's platform, and became enamored with the endless possibilities of what I could build with code. I started out following their courses, but soon began to try creating my own projects. As my academic education progressed, so did my coding: I enjoyed writing simulations or demonstrations of the concepts I was learning in calculus or physics, and absolutely loved the way math could play into the world of computers.

As I continued to grow, my horizons began to expand, and I began to see the limits of the environment KA provided - I couldn't permanently store any information, or have complex interactions between multiple users, etc. And so, I began to discover the world of backend programming. As I learned the basics of the frontend/backend distinction, databases, file storage, APIs, and different app architectures, I became more and more fascinated with the idea of information, and how it is stored, transferred, and distributed.

I began building full-stack web and mobile apps, and I felt my knowledge of the field of software engineering growing substantially. I became more confident in my abilities and skill with coding, and even began forming my own opinions on how certain things should be done.

At this point, I was sure that this was the field I wanted to work in. I had my heart set on being a software engineer at a big tech company someday, and I carried this passion with me for 6 years, until I eventually began working toward a Computer Science degree.

And then something surprising happened.

No, I didn't become burnt out on coding, nor did I find that I did not enjoy computer science classes.

Rather, the life-changing moment came when I read a book. That book was Gifted Hands by Dr. Ben Carson.

I had never really given medicine a serious consideration before. Several people had suggested that I might find interest in the field, but I always brushed it off because "I knew what I was doing."

But reading this book was the beginning of a process that would change all that.

It was lent to me by a friend, and because they loved it so much I decided I might as well try it. So, I picked it up half-heartedly one night - and I didn't put it down until I had finished it (at ~2:30am, if you must know).

Now, I want to clarify that it was not the content of the book that stood out to me - in fact, I had already read a biography on Dr. Carson, so I was familiar with everything the book covered. I don't entirely know how to explain it, but something about reading the book in that moment simply spoke to me, and I suddenly found myself feeling a deep calling to medicine.

I was confused, but I couldn't let this idea go. So, I enrolled in an anatomy class at a nearby community college to test the waters. To this day it's my favorite class I've ever taken.

The more I continued to invest in this career path, the more confirmation I found - so, when it came time for me to transfer from community college to a four-year college, I decided to switch my major and go the premed route.

At this point, I soon began to realize that many of the things I enjoyed about computer programming were not specific to that one field, and I immediately began to connect those things to the practice of medicine.

What fascinated me so much about puzzling through complex systems, and adding breakpoints or console.log messages to find a bug, was really the process of diagnosis.

My obsession with app architecture and organization caused be to me be delighted beyond belief when examining the elegance of organization found in the human body.

The same joy I had found in managing the storage and distribution of information in software systems was given a new frontier as I learned about blood, hormones, the nervous system, and different cell and organismal biology concepts such as morphogens, cytokines, etc.

What really changed my mind about what career to pursue, however, was not the similarities between the two fields, but one key difference:

Software engineering is, fundamentally, about computers. Medicine is about people.

Yes, software engineering can benefit people, and humans are certainly a key part of the field as a whole - but only indirectly. Where software engineering often focuses on making people's lives faster, easier, or more productive, medicine pursues wellness.

By no means am I saying that software engineering is less important than medicine, or that being a doctor is a "better" career in some way than being an engineer.

What I am saying is that I find the idea that I could have the privilege of taking care of people in some of their most vulnerable times of need, and improving their lives in a purposeful, tangible way sounds much more fulfilling to me personally than anything I could give the world through my coding.

And so, I left my software engineering dreams behind...or did I?

After all, I'm still pursuing the same passions that led me to programming in the first place, and while my end goal might be different, I will still take the skills I learned and even the very practice of programming into the rest of my life.

So, while I may not become a software engineer, I do believe I will always be a developer.