**"The Pull Request I Never Sent"**

It’s 9:02 AM in Portland, and for the first time in my coding career, I’m not obsessively refreshing GitHub for comments on my latest PR. Instead, I’m watching rain streak down the window of my favorite coffee shop, realizing something dangerous: I might be learning how to human.

The Backstory

This week has been a series of small rebellions against my old self:
- Monday: Laughed at a bug instead of internalizing it
- Tuesday: Left work before dark (without guilt)
- Wednesday: Survived a spontaneous call without prep
- Thursday: Actually enjoyed pair programming

But yesterday? I wrote a pull request description that said "This probably isn’t perfect—thoughts?" and hit "Submit" without rewriting it seventeen times.

The Realization

My notebook from last night reads like a debug log for my soul:
```
[ERROR] Habit: Treating code reviews as value judgments
[FIX] → Framed as collaborative iteration
[ERROR] Pattern: Needing to "prove" my worth daily
[FIX] → Accepted that respect isn’t earned in PRs
```

The Unexpected Test

At 4:30 PM yesterday, my teammate Marco Slack’d: "This design is messy—want to whiteboard it?"
Old me would’ve:
1. Apologized profusely
2. Stayed late to "fix" it alone
3. Drowned in imposter syndrome

Instead, I:
1. Grabbed my notebook (and a beer from the office fridge)
2. Said "Yeah, I’m stuck—let’s figure it out"
3. Left at 6 PM with a better solution and a new inside joke about React state

The Lesson

Maturation isn’t about flawless code—it’s about:
- Trusting that growth happens in the open
- Remembering that colleagues are allies, not judges
- Accepting that "I don’t know" is the beginning, not the end

P.S. That sticky note collection on my monitor? Added today: "PRs are conversations, not report cards."

P.P.S. The coffee’s still warm. Progress.