What Employment Actually Felt Like at 18

It was 2017. I was at the University of Waterloo, barely one semester into my CS degree. International student. Broke.

My English was fine but my experience was zero. I had one semester of coding in an unfamiliar school system and absolutely no resume to speak of.

The program required me to find an internship. That was non-negotiable. You either found a co-op job or you couldn't continue.

I was terrified.

The Advice Everyone Gave Me

Everyone told me the same thing: you should go on study term. Postpone it. Come back when you have something to show. All the smart people I knew were saying this.

They weren't being mean. They were being realistic. An 18-year-old international student with zero practical experience doesn't just walk into a job.

But I said no. I remember the exact feeling: if there's anything about me, it's that I'm very persistent. I didn't have credentials. I didn't have a network. I didn't have anything except the willingness to look stupid and do it anyway.

So I started.

50 Emails

I sent custom cover letters. I'm not talking about tweaking a template. I'm talking about 300-400 word emails to startup CEOs I'd never met. Actual letters. Actual thinking about why I wanted to work at their company. Why I'd be useful even though I had no proof I would be.

My university's library was depressing. It was too crowded, too loud, too cold. Every day after class I'd run to a different university's library—sometimes across the city—because I needed to focus. I'd spend three hours there writing those emails, customizing each one, actually thinking about the person on the other end.

I sent out resumes for a month straight. Not 10. Not 20. Probably closer to 50 or 60. Most of them got nothing. Some got rejections. Some got silence.

That part matters. The silence was almost worse than rejection because at least rejection meant someone read it.

The Month Nobody Talks About

My mental health during that month was rough. I don't talk about that part much, but it's real. You're 18 years old. You're far from home. You don't know anyone. And every day you're getting evidence that nobody wants to hire you. It accumulates.

I'd wake up and think about quitting. Just going on study term. Going back to Toronto. Figuring it out later. The rejection was compounded by the loneliness. I was the only person I knew going through this.

But I kept sending emails.

May 7th, 2017

One CEO replied within an hour. I still remember seeing it pop up in my inbox. His email said something like: "Start May 7th, 2017. Here's our address."

That was it. No long negotiation. No multiple interviews. Just: you seem like you want this, so show up.

I showed up.

$30 an Hour

He paid me $30 an hour. For an 18-year-old international student with zero experience, that felt like a fortune. It wasn't. But it was enough to survive and occasionally eat things that weren't pasta. That's not why the number matters.

The number matters because I didn't deserve it. I had nothing to show. I had no proof I could do anything useful. And he paid me $30 an hour anyway.

Why? Because I was persistent. Because I wrote a real email instead of a template. Because I showed up willing to be a beginner.

That's the transaction that started everything.

Day One

I remember the first day walking into the office and thinking: how am I going to pretend I know what I'm doing? But here's the thing—everyone knows you don't know what you're doing at 18. There's no expectation of mastery. The expectation is that you're coachable and that you'll learn.

I was both of those things. That CEO saw it in a 400-word email. He bet on it.

The Bet He Made On Me

I think about that guy sometimes. I don't know if he remembers me. I was just another intern. But he changed my life by taking a chance on someone who had nothing except willingness. No credentials. No network. No experience. Just: I will show up and I will learn and I will not quit.

What kills me now is watching founders act like that kind of opportunity doesn't exist anymore. Like every hire needs to be pre-screened and perfect and fitted neatly into an org chart. Like an 18-year-old kid with nothing can't be valuable.

That's bullshit.

The game hasn't changed that much. What people actually need is willingness. The persistence to send 50 emails instead of 5. The humility to accept $30 an hour when you have no right to expect anything. The clarity to show up on May 7th and actually work.

I was a terrible employee at first. I didn't know anything. I made mistakes. I took direction poorly. But I learned because I had to. And because that CEO believed it was worth his time to teach me.

Everything I know about business started there. The attention to detail in emails. The ability to think about what someone else needs. The understanding that most doors are closed but a few are open if you actually bother to knock.

The Seed

That summer was the first real money I'd ever made. I didn't spend a dime of it if I could avoid it. I saved every dollar.

That savings was the seed for everything that came after. Not because it was a lot of money. But because it was proof that someone believed I could do something.

At 18, you need that proof. You need someone to take a bet on you. I got lucky. I found someone willing to read a 400-word email instead of deleting it.

The View From the Bottom

The thing about being at the bottom is that you see the entire ladder clearly. You see exactly what you need to do to move up. You see what works and what doesn't. You're not jaded yet. You actually believe hard work and persistence matter.

Then you climb for a while. You start to forget what it felt like to be at the bottom. You start to think the system is meritocratic when really you just got lucky. You start to believe in credentials instead of willingness.

And then the game resets. And you're back at the bottom. And you remember what it took to get started.

Back to Zero

That's what 2025 and 2026 are teaching me. Everything I built is infrastructure now. Everything I'm worth is based on what I can actually do, not on what I've already done. I'm 27 and I feel like I'm 18 again—broke, with nothing to show, sending emails hoping someone will answer.

The difference is I know the answer works. I know that persistence matters. I know that if you send 50 real emails instead of 5 template ones, someone will say yes.

I got my start because someone took a chance. Now I have to be someone who takes chances on other people.