If you had asked me in college what I wanted to become, I would have answered without thinking.
“A Software Engineer.”
Not because I had explored different career paths.
Not because I understood how technology companies actually worked.
It was simply because, in my mind, that was the job.
The people who wrote code were the people building products.
Everyone else just… existed around them.
Looking back, that was probably one of the most limiting assumptions I carried into my career.
The World Was Much Smaller Than I Thought
Like most engineering students, my final year revolved around coding.
I spent my time solving DSA problems, preparing for interviews, building projects, polishing my GitHub profile, and talking to friends about placements.
Every conversation eventually came back to one goal.
Become a Software Engineer.
That wasn’t unusual. In fact, it was the default path everyone around me seemed to be following.
What was unusual, in hindsight, was how little we spoke about everything else.
Nobody explained what Product Managers actually did.
Or Business Analysts.
Or Security Engineers.
Or Site Reliability Engineers.
Or Technical Program Managers.
Or UX Designers.
Or Solutions Architects.
It was almost as if the entire technology industry had been reduced to a single job title.
The industry looked like a building with a hundred doors.
I was convinced there was only one entrance.
The Opportunity I Almost Ignored
A few years into my career, I was presented with an opportunity to move into a Product Management role.
My immediate reaction?
“No.”
Not because I had explored Product Management and decided it wasn’t for me.
Ironically…
I rejected it because I knew almost nothing about it.
Somewhere along the way, I had created an invisible hierarchy in my head.
Software Engineers built products.
Everyone else helped around the edges.
It sounds silly now.
At the time, it felt completely obvious.
Then I Actually Observed What PMs Do
Thankfully, before making any decision, I spent time talking to Product Managers I worked with.
I joined planning meetings.
I watched roadmap discussions.
I saw customer feedback slowly transform into engineering requirements.
I watched people debate priorities, budgets, timelines, compliance requirements, technical feasibility, and user experience—all in the same meeting.
And somewhere during those conversations, something clicked.
The PM wasn’t deciding how to build something.
They were deciding what deserved to be built in the first place.
That’s an entirely different skill.
And a remarkably difficult one.
College Doesn’t Show You This
Looking back, I don’t think my misconception was unusual.
For four years, almost everything around us reinforces the same narrative.
You’re taught by engineering professors.
Surrounded by engineering students.
Guided by seniors who mostly become engineers.
Even your YouTube recommendations slowly convince you that success has a very specific shape.
“How I cracked Company X as an SDE.”
“Top DSA Questions.”
“Software Engineering Roadmap.”
After hearing the same story long enough, it’s easy to assume that Software Engineering isn’t just a career.
It’s the career.
But once you enter the industry, you quickly realize something.
Software Engineering is one destination.
Not the only one.
What Changed My Perspective
Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to work alongside people from a wide variety of disciplines.
I’ve watched analysts uncover insights that completely changed product direction.
I’ve seen Product Managers save months of engineering effort simply by asking the right questions before development began.
I’ve watched Security Engineers identify vulnerabilities that could have resulted in enormous losses.
I’ve seen designers improve customer experience far more than another backend optimization ever could.
I’ve seen Program Managers coordinate dozens of teams to deliver something no single engineer could have built alone.
None of them spent every day writing production code.
Yet every one of them played a critical role in building successful products.
Companies Don’t Exist to Write Code
This isn’t an argument against Software Engineering.
I genuinely enjoy writing code.
But one realization has stayed with me throughout my career.
Companies don’t exist to write code.
They exist to solve problems.
Sometimes software is the solution.
Sometimes better processes are.
Sometimes better data is.
Sometimes better communication is.
Sometimes the hardest problem isn’t technical at all.
It’s understanding customers.
Or reducing fraud.
Or deciding which feature deserves to be built first.
Or making sure dozens of teams move in the same direction.
Every one of those problems creates value.
And every one of them has people whose entire careers revolve around solving it.
A Better Question to Ask Yourself
If you’re still in college, I’d encourage you to avoid asking:
“Which job title should I chase?”
Instead, ask yourself something more fundamental.
What kind of problems do you genuinely enjoy solving?
Do you enjoy building systems from scratch?
Do you enjoy understanding customer behavior?
Do you enjoy making sense of data?
Do you enjoy improving security?
Do you enjoy coordinating teams?
Do you enjoy simplifying complicated ideas?
Those answers will probably shape your career far more than choosing a title because everyone else chose it.
Something I Notice During Interviews
One thing I’ve consistently noticed while interviewing candidates is that many students speak about careers as though they’re permanent identities.
“I’m an SDE.”
“I don’t want to become a PM.”
“Analytics isn’t for me.”
The interesting part?
Many of them have never actually worked alongside those roles.
It’s a little like deciding your favorite cuisine…
…after tasting exactly one dish.
A Note to My Younger Self
If my younger self had asked me,
“Is Software Engineering the only successful career in technology?”
I would’ve answered without hesitation.
“Absolutely.”
Today, after working alongside engineers, analysts, architects, product managers, designers, security specialists, and many others…
…my answer is very different.
Technology isn’t a ladder where one role sits above another.
It’s a team sport.
Different people solve different pieces of the same puzzle.
The product succeeds only when all of them do.
So before you narrow your definition of success, spend some time exploring the rest of the menu.
You might discover that the role you were meant for isn’t the one you spent four years preparing for.
And that’s perfectly okay.