4 takeaways from my first year at a software company

This month marks my first year at NordPass. Usually, I don't make a big thing about work anniversaries. To tell you the truth, I barely acknowledge them until the HR posts a congratulations message on #general.

But this one calls back to a major turning point in my career — when I left the agency where I had spent my very first years of my career and ventured out into the unknowns of a new position at a software company.

"So what?" you ask. "People change jobs all the time!" And I get it — this may seem ordinary. But for a digital product designer, this had revolutionary potential.

For the first time in my career, there was no middleman between me and the people who wanted my services. This is, ultimately, what every professional in the so-called creative industry strives for. But there's a price to pay — your sense of security. There used to be someone who had your back when negotiating with the client — but now you have to handle that all by yourself.

And while the NordPass folks have supported me throughout my onboarding, that first year was still challenging. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but it took me as long as six months to feel somewhat comfortable with my responsibilities.

Now, as I reflect on the past year, I can open up about what surprised me after I joined. Some of these things may be common knowledge. But if you're going through a similar change in your career, read on — and you'll have more accurate expectations about working at a software company than I did.

There's no client

At an agency, there's an inevitable divide between you and the client. Sure, you're both on the same team — but it consists of two parties.

No matter how hard I tried to be considered my client's equal, I never quite was. And I believe that's fair. If they wanted a true team member, they'd hire in-house. Still, I could tell that the nature of our relationship was taking away some of my responsibilities. Let me explain.

Don't know how a feature works? Ask the client! We're past the deadline? Leave that to the client! Have trouble talking to the developers? Bring the client into the discussion!

See a pattern? The client was the answer to all of my problems. It didn't cross my mind that maybe I should try to solve them myself ("I've got enough on my plate already!").

So imagine my shock when I joined a software company and was expected to deal with such issues myself. All of a sudden, I found myself studying the PRDs, looking anxiously at the burndown charts, and scrutinizing the staging environment.

Fortunately, this reaction didn't last for long. Because it's not that I couldn't handle those tasks — I was simply not used to being responsible for them. But after a couple of projects, I felt at home.

Nowadays, when a project kicks off, I collect all the necessary information by myself. It doesn't mean that I've become Mr. Know-It-All — I still depend on the stakeholders' insights alongside my own research. But the fact that there's no client I can fall back on with any inconvenience has made me more independent.

And when my projects launch, I have to monitor how our users enjoy them as well. Nobody will come to me after a few months asking to improve the design (like they used to do during my agency days). I'm responsible for the impact of my work. And you know what? It feels damn good.

Do understand what you're working on

It's ridiculous how often I used to get away with not fully understanding the project I was working on. While it never got so bad that my client had to tell me exactly what to do … sometimes I wished they did.

I wasn't proud of my ignorance, but I rolled with it. Sure, I might not have vibed with all of my clients equally — but nobody had a problem with that.

Since I've joined NordPass, I've fixed my attitude. Now, you could wake me up in the middle of the night, ask for an elevator pitch, and I'd answer as if I had the documentation in front of me (please don't do that).

What helped me improve was having more time to delve into a project. At an agency, the more billable hours you log, the better. And clients don't love it when you spend their money trying to understand the project.

But here, research is an investment. Not only does it prepare me for an unexpected 2 a.m. interrogation — but my designs are way better too.

Here's an example. I've recently worked on our Vanta integration. From the user's perspective, it couldn't be more simple — it literally takes a few clicks to set up. You'd think that I designed it in half a day (lunch break included). And if we're talking about creating the final UI, you'd be right. But that's only because the rest of my budget went into understanding what's happening behind those clicks.

With a deep understanding of the tech requirements, I can identify and design for corner cases myself without having my product manager point them out for me. And I'm also more informed on back-end solutions in general — the next time someone mentions OAuth, I know it inside and out!

The happy path is just one of the many

Working primarily on MVPs at the agency, I used to prioritize the big picture. Early-stage startups need to dazzle investors and early adopters, so I'd spend 90% of my time designing the happy path. The remaining 10% would go into error states — but only if the developers were nagging me about them. I'd approach a project with one idealistic scenario in mind and skip anything that wasn't part of it.

I thought I was playing it smart. But in reality, I was ignorant — both towards the users and the business. I've missed out on so many opportunities to create a memorable experience and (potentially) turn people into paying customers only because they strayed from the happy path.

Now, these proportions are almost swapped. Sure, I still prototype with the key Jobs-To-Be-Done first. But I no longer consider a solution to be complete if it doesn't cover all the corner cases.

Not everyone believes in design

Shocker, right? Well, it was for me!

Bear in mind that prior to NordPass, I had worked at a design agency; a company built on deep appreciation for the craft. Everyone — including the project managers, developers, and salespeople — shared a passion for beauty and function.

And the clients paid us good money for our services. They must have had at least some understanding of design to justify the investment.

So when I left my bubble, I felt confused. At this company, design was not a core value — but merely another department. If you wanted to spend your days practicing user-centered design, you had to show how it contributes to the revenue. At first, I saw that as a shortcoming — until I realized that it's an opportunity to shape how the organization perceives design.

But to do that, I had to ask myself: "Why should anyone care about design?" I thought I knew the answer. I could tell when I saw good design. But I failed to explain why it's good.

So I challenged myself to figure it out. I traded my gut feelings for studies and heuristics. I started sharing my research with the team. And project by project, I earned their trust, making it so much easier to get them on board with my design initiatives.

Here's to another one

This past year was humbling. I've gained a deeper understanding of my responsibilities. I've learned what impact (positive or negative) my work has. So many times I had to leave my ago at the door and go back to the basics.

When I worked at an agency, I used to laugh at the thought of people working as design advocates. "It sounds like a bullshit job!" But I get it now (or, at least, sort of).

And while you could argue that I still have a client that pays me for my services — it doesn't feel like that type of relationship. But to be fair, if I ever return to the agency world, I won't treat the clients and the work like I used to.