Be honest with yourself. Have you ever felt embarrassed by your work — not because it was bad, but because you were chasing approval instead of truth? I know that feeling very well. Years ago, I was lost in ambition and fear. I thought success would give my life meaning. I remember sitting in my room late at night, exhausted from code that didn’t work and dreams that didn’t satisfy. What I didn’t realize then was that the real problem wasn’t technical — it was spiritual. I was trying to fill a void that only repentance and humility can heal. Back then, I tried everything — different programming languages, self-help ideas, “mentorships,” business systems. They all promised freedom, but every new method became another chain. The more I chased shortcuts, the emptier I felt. At some point, I started following people who spoke confidently about “success formulas.” Their words sounded wise, even compassionate. But under the surface, the goal was always the same: to sell, to scale, to dominate the market — not to serve, not to love, not to be honest. And I learned their craft. I learned how to write persuasive stories, how to press people’s emotional buttons, how to turn vulnerability into a sales hook. It worked — externally. But inside, my conscience became quieter, harder to hear. I ignored the red flags because the results looked good. The truth is, what I called “mentorship” was just manipulation dressed in empathy. I told myself I was helping others “escape the coding jungle,” but in reality, I was repeating the same pride that had trapped me — presenting myself as a savior, when I needed saving myself. Years later, I began to see the damage — not only in others, but in me. The more I “succeeded,” the more I lost the peace that comes from simplicity and honesty. And when that peace was gone, nothing — not the income, not the recognition — could replace it. Now I see that real usefulness comes from living rightly before God, not from building a career image. Writing code can be good and honorable work — but only when it’s done with a clean conscience, without deceit, without pride, without turning people into customers. What I wish I had known earlier is this: it’s better to build slowly with integrity than to rise quickly through manipulation. Because one builds a soul, and the other builds a brand — and only one of them will last beyond this life.