Starting a New Chapter: New Ambitions and a New Job

It's been a heartbreaking decision, but I have decided to leave, or more accurately, not to renew my contract. I was a software engineer working in an aerospace company called MaiaSpace.

Everything comes to an End ​

It was my first job, but not necessarily my dream job, or the job I had dreamed of.

I never thought I could work in aerospace, and I'm not particularly passionate about rockets. I really appreciate watching the launches and all the new technologies developed, like the landing of the Falcon 9's booster and first stage or following the Starship development. But not more than that. The Starship's first stage catch between the chopsticks was really impressive!

At the end of August 2024, I posted on LinkedIn to share I was looking for a new opportunity, without a lot of expectations. But a friend saw my post and reached out to me about a position at his company. They were looking for someone with my skills in web development. Great! I can safely say it now, but I never applied anywhere else. All my hope was pinned on this opportunity.

I asked him where he was working. He told me he was building a reusable rocket within a startup called MaiaSpace. I didn't really ask for more. I was simply thrilled by the project and the idea of working on an industrial project that was concrete and would have an impact on France. To join the company, I had two one-hour interviews, one with the team, and the other with the PO and CTO. Everything went well, and I was hired for a one-year contract.

I was the first, and only, web developer in the company for nearly all of that time. So, I had the opportunity to build from scratch, with the technologies I wanted. The only constraint was to have a working product as fast as possible. I chose a stack simple enough to be able to manage it alone but powerful enough to handle the requirements of the project. Laravel, Vue.js, and Inertia.

Tech has never been the complicated part of my mission.

When you're arriving in a field you're completely unfamiliar with, writing code is, by far, the simplest task you can do. Understanding the business and the domain, when most words are acronyms and nobody understands your job, is really hard. Honestly, it took me months to really grasp enough of the domain to start working effectively, and to ship a useful product. Once you have it, everything becomes easier, and you start shipping features that really empower users.

I really loved everything I was involved in, and really appreciated everyone on the team I was part of.

Heartbreaking to Leave ​

I developed the software alone for nearly a year, spending more than 845 hours in VS Code. I've written and thought about each line. I saw it born, die, and born again. Then, I saw it growing and evolving, from a simple idea to a complex system, from a white paper to a deployed application, interconnected with various components and services. Over time, it became a crucial part of the team workflow.

It even inspired some articles I've written: Laravel and Vite: A Love Story Ruined with Cross-Origin, Using Pinia Colada in Modals Without Spoiling the UX, and You're not a software engineer, sorry, but that's okay.

The opportunity to work on such a project was incredible, and it has been a unique opportunity. There are no two MaiaSpace on Earth, and there are not many companies working on reusable rockets.

The truth is, even with such a unique opportunity, I couldn't find my place within the company. I wasn't aligned with the company's vision, values, and mindset. The importance of the industrial project wasn't enough to keep me motivated.

The European aerospace industry is a small one, very closed-minded, despite the long statements about innovation and disruption. Embracing new ideas is a challenge for them. Some of them have been working in the industry for more than 20 years. It worked for Ariane 5 and Ariane 6, so why change? There's no need.

They forgot one thing, an important one. The goal of MaiaSpace isn't just to build a launcher. It's all about reducing costs and increasing accessibility to space, which is a fundamental shift. We know how to build a rocket. Ariane 6 is going well, and we don't need an Ariane 6 bis. The real challenge is to get rid of the bureaucracy layer, to increase velocity, to innovate, to make it with more intelligence. That's honestly a huge objective, nearly a cultural change.

The team I was part of was incredibly talented and passionate. They understood the importance of my work, creating software to facilitate, accelerate and automate the workflow. Unfortunately, beyond that scope, the company leadership saw my work as just a cost center, rather than a value driver. Day to day, it meant that every little action requires me to move mountains, dealing with internal political battles that I should never have had to face.

Never forget that youth and a fresh perspective can bring way more value than experience. Embrace feedback.

Also, no clear career path was offered, and when you're just at the beginning of the journey, it's hard when you can't see a growth trajectory. At the same time, I love writing talks and giving them at meetups and conferences. I dedicate a lot of my free time to this activity, but the company never saw the value. More than half of my vacation days were spent going to conferences. Can't really call them "vacation" days.

Finally, being alone means that you inevitably reach a plateau where you stop learning and growing. This creates frustration, and a year after my arrival, I felt I reached a point of stagnation.

There were pros to staying, as well as to leaving.

The Mourning Process ​

I didn't leave on a whim. It took me weeks to come to this conclusion.

In September, I went through a significant period of reflection and reevaluation. Before considering leaving, I tried to find ways to improve my situation within the company. I discussed my concerns with multiple colleagues to find solutions. After weeks of trying a lot of different approaches, I had to accept the facts. I couldn't change anything, and considering leaving was the only remaining option.

At first, I really wanted to stay, and I questioned myself. Am I the issue? What should I do to improve the situation? Also, I was persuading myself that things could get better. People I talked to told me that they were discussing how to resolve the situation. I believed them.

During the wait, I was at my lowest point. I completely lost the joy of working, of creating, both personally and professionally. The only thing I wanted was to stay on the sofa, scrolling through my phone, waiting for tomorrow. The reality was that the situation wouldn't improve magically.

After some weeks of waiting, nothing changed at work. Some days were even worse than others. Of all the options I considered, only one was left: leaving. I wouldn't accept it at first, but after talking with many friends and people outside the situation, I realized it was the only acceptable option.

It took me a few days to admit it, but they were right.

Knowing that I wanted to leave was a crucial step because I could start finding ways to get back up. What do I want next? Where do I go from here? I can explore absolutely anything. Once I found my direction and a new job, life became smoother, and work stopped being a pain.

In hindsight, it was really a mourning process that took place in September. I understood it after the fact, but I'm sure that understanding it while I was going through it would have helped to know how to resolve it faster.

Moving Forward ​

That was the past, and now it's time to look ahead.

I'm starting a new chapter at a company called Takima. They're a consulting firm specialized in Angular, Java, and everything related to infrastructure. I don't know exactly what I will work on yet, but I'm excited to start working with them.

I met Takima two years ago, at Devoxx France 2023. The first talk I saw was one from Loïc, current CTO, and Aurélien, former consultant, about building a GitOps from scratch. I found it amazing, and even if I didn't understand everything, I knew I wanted to be able to do like them one day.

In 2024, when I went back to Devoxx France, I looked for talks from Takima. They are well written, you learn a lot, and you have a good time. Later in the year, Camille, consultant at Takima and organizer of tech events, invited me to talk at one of their meetups called TakiMeet.

In 2025, still at Devoxx France, I spent most of my time at their booth, chatting, discussing, and learning from the team. Since then, I had multiple opportunities to meet them at conferences.

Through all of these interactions, I discovered more than just a company. I found passionate people who care about their work, who love to share their knowledge, with a vision and a tech culture I really appreciate. I was aligned with them. Also, I will be surrounded by people who do the same work. I won't be the only one. One of my hopes is to find fulfillment in this environment.

So, when the opportunity arose to join them, I didn't hesitate.

Now, it's time to learn Java! I have never really written Java before, so this will be a new challenge for me. I will be paid for writing Java, so I have to be good.

What's your job? I'm building a reusable space rocket. Was that really the truth? Who knows? It doesn't really matter now, I can no longer say that.

What do I really want?

This question really haunted me. At first, I wasn't able to find an answer. I wanted to find a fixed point, a clear direction that wouldn't change over time.

I'm now convinced that it's an impossible quest.

The answer to this question inevitably fluctuates, and I needed to accept that it's okay for my goals and desires to evolve, along with my experiences and the people I surround myself with. This acceptance really reduced my mental burden and made me feel more peaceful.

Change is the only constant.