Why I Left Digital Retail

I left Digital Retail to find a space that matched my values. After 3.5 years of stalled growth, unrecognized contributions, and philosophical misalignment, Developer Experience gave me a fresh start—and a chance to make engineering better for everyone.

Why I Left Digital Retail

And Why It Was the Right Call 🚪➡️💡

Over three years ago, I left the Digital Retail team to join Developer Experience. The move raised eyebrows—Digital Retail was high-profile, fast-moving, and central to the company’s growth strategy. But for me, it wasn’t about the visibility of the work. It was about alignment. With my values. With how I wanted to grow. With what kind of engineer—and teammate—I wanted to be.


🧱 My Growth Had Stalled

I was promoted to Principal, but it didn’t feel like much changed. I wasn’t leading new projects. I wasn’t leveling up my skills. Everyone around me was switching roles or expanding scope, but after 3.5 years, mine looked the same.

I wasn’t being mentored—I was doing the mentoring. Boxers don’t train themselves, and it was clear I needed to take ownership of my growth because no one else was going to.

The last time I led something from start to finish was the financing wizard. That was years ago—and I did it alone. Since then, it was mostly stepping in to clean things up. Important work, but not the kind that challenges you to evolve.


🔀 The Management Pitch Fell Flat

Early on, someone asked if I was interested in becoming a manager. I said yes. Two years passed before it came up again—and when it did, the conversation didn’t land.

I wasn’t offered additional compensation or incentives. Just more responsibility layered on top of coding. And I was told I’d need to shift my work hours by one hour to better overlap with other managers. That might sound minor, but it wasn’t feasible with my family obligations—and it spoke volumes about what the priorities really were.

We also had fundamentally different views on what management should be. I believe managers should focus on people—on development, growth, support, and accountability. What I heard was: fill gaps, take pressure off leadership, and keep the machine running. No thanks.

I’ve led teams unofficially throughout my career. I was ready to do it officially—but not under those terms.


🎯 Contribution Without Recognition

I was in the weeds every day: writing code, reviewing PRs, mentoring, syncing with teams, guiding architecture, improving process, maintaining quality.

I was an early member of Push Gurus—a support group enabling deployment success. I joined on top of my already full workload because I believed in making things better for engineers. I was a long-time member of the first UI Council—a group of engineers determined to make frontend development a first-class citizen at the company. I gave presentations, workshops, tech talks. Aligned with lead engineers on other teams. Assisted and provided guidance on shared component libraries.

But all that effort? It didn’t seem to register. I felt unseen. And worse, I started questioning if maybe I was overestimating my impact.

Then came my mid-year review: “You’re not outputting enough.”

So I changed my behavior. I told two engineers I’d been supporting closely—engineers considered to be at my level—that I was stepping back. They’d need to rely less on hand-holding and ask for help only during PR reviews. One of them immediately asked:

“What does that mean for my productivity?”

That moment told me everything.


🧩 Frontend Was Treated Like a Side Job

Backend engineers often saw themselves as full stack and treated frontend like it was still "just HTML, CSS, and jQuery."

Major frontend architecture decisions were being made by backend engineers—without input from the people who actually owned the frontend.

We had to fight just to be considered. To push for APIs that made sense for the user experience. To argue that frontend wasn't just the final paint job—it was part of the engine.


🔧 Why Developer Experience?

Because I want to fix that kind of dysfunction.

I believe in building systems and tools that make engineering more joyful. That reduce friction. That treat the craft with respect and help teams do their best work.

One night, I reviewed a PR after several others had approved it. I found issues. Not nitpicks—real ones. When I asked why they were missed, the answer was simple: everyone was exhausted.

I don’t blame them. We were running on fumes. We had engineers crying. New hires floundering. People questioning their decision to join. That’s not normal. And that’s not okay.


🔥 We Were Already Burnt Out, Then We Took on More

I suggested the team shift to building out a checkout flow because I thought it would help us hit our yearly goal. In hindsight, we should’ve stayed focused on our current focus, Consumer Growth. Checkout drained us.

We had recently doubled in team size with about twice as many frontend engineers. A year prior, I had asked for promotion to a more UI Architect role to build alignment among the newly formed teams. It wasn't deemed necessary—until it was too late.

There were meetings where we all agreed on API design. Then a week later, it was like those conversations never happened.

I kept pushing for smaller, iterative releases. Leadership said we weren’t moving fast enough. Meanwhile, the codebase was telling a different story: rushed changes, mounting complexity, slipping quality.

Everyone was stressed. So was I. But while we were asking for breathing room, we got a sequel project instead. And we chose the harder option—because we still cared.

That’s what broke me.


🧠 Product vs. People

My philosophy is simple: prioritize people. Happy, empowered engineers build better products.

But in Digital Retail, the product came first. Quality came second. People came third.

I tried stepping back. Letting others lead architecture. Encouraging open forums instead of private DMs. Spreading responsibility. And still, I didn’t feel like I was making a difference.

I’ve worked on teams where you feel the joy—not just in the outcome, but in the process. Where problems are solvable. Where there's bandwidth to improve the way we work. Where people are heard—and change follows.

This wasn’t that. Here, it was: “We hear you. Eventually, we’ll fix it.”

Eventually wasn’t good enough.


✅ The Right Team, The Right Mission

I didn’t leave because Digital Retail was bad. I left because it wasn’t right for me.

Developer Experience gave me a place to build the kind of systems and culture I believe in. To focus on effectiveness, not just activity. To support other engineers, not just ship more features. To make a difference.

Three years in, I knew I made the right call.

And if you’re feeling stuck, unseen, or misaligned—maybe it’s your turn to move too.