Always On Call
I could never fully relax when I took leave.
Even after a thorough handover, there was always the chance that something might come up that only I could solve. I don’t mean that as a boast — there were genuinely things that only I had the knowledge and training to do. I’d spend the break dreading that something urgent would come up and I’d get the call. And even if it passed without incident, there was the fear of the pile of work waiting on my return.
Sick days were worse. No handover, no planning ahead. I would wake up feeling awful and feel even worse at the thought of my colleagues having to deal with something they didn’t have the training for.
I don’t think I ever truly had a break in that job until I left it.
Good Intentions
I never set out to become a single point of failure.
I was a fresh graduate, lucky to have secured a job, and determined to keep it. Whatever task I was given, I did it without question. If I came across something I didn’t know, I learned it. Every problem that landed on my desk, I solved alone — because I didn’t know any other way. And all the signals I got back reinforced it.
I was praised for my productivity, my willingness to learn, to muck in. It felt good. I felt valued. I’d saved critical projects from disaster. The CEO knew my name. I felt like a celebrity.
It took a while before I realised the cost. To myself, and to the people around me.
Consequences
I felt the cost to myself first. Never being able to switch off, afraid that eventually I’d be given something I couldn’t handle and there would be no one to help me.
When I handed in my notice I realised the impact on my colleagues. I spent my entire notice period training, running workshops, writing documentation. I didn’t realise how much I’d been carrying until I had to put it down. And I didn’t realise how much I’d taken from my team — so many opportunities for someone else to learn and develop. Instead, I’d left them with processes and systems only I understood.
The problem with carrying everything is that it all falls down without you there.
The Other Side
I took a holiday and didn’t think about work once. Not because I’d spent hours preparing a handover, but because the knowledge was already there. I didn’t realise how much I was carrying alone, and I didn’t even realise it was a choice. A choice to do it myself because it was faster than explaining it. Maybe in the moment it feels that way, but it never is.
I didn’t know there was an alternative. Now I do.
Now I write the documentation before it’s needed. I share my knowledge before it’s asked for. I mentor the people around me to share the load I used to carry alone. I finish on time. My notifications are off. And I can truly switch off when I’m not there.
It took me a while to get here. But I did.
Choose Your Path
If you’re a rockstar developer and you’re happy, I’m happy for you. There are plenty of start-ups that need your energy, your willingness to wear multiple hats, build fast, and keep moving.
If you’re not, this is for you. Your value lies in what you bring to the team, not in being an entire team yourself. Skim past the job listing that wants you to build the whole product alone. Document the things that only you know. Suggest that maybe someone else on the team might like to learn that new technology.
It doesn’t mean you’ve stopped caring, or that you’re not contributing. You’re contributing to an engineering culture that will last without you there to maintain it. If that’s the kind of developer you want to be, this post is for you.
