Preface
In “A102 Job-Hunting Diary (I): What Does It Feel Like to Fail Twice in ByteDance Interviews?”, I previously emphasized the importance of fit:
Although I have experience and capability, I simply do not match what these interviewers are looking for—not because I’m inadequate, but because I’m not a fit. Even the finest cabbage cannot be sold to someone who wants radishes.
While job-hunting, I submitted countless resumes; the rough estimate of those landing interviews was under 5%. For a period, I felt deeply discouraged: Was I just not good enough?
Main Text
Confidence Comes from Competence
Among the vast pool of fresh graduates entering the job market, I believe I’m far from terrible—my overall competence is likely at least in the top 20%. As for the roles I initially applied to, candidates would probably need to rank within the top 10% to secure an offer.
Viewed solely through this lens, is being in the top 20% “bad”? Not really. Can someone ranked top 20% land a top-10% role? Generally, no. But does that mean their ability is fundamentally insufficient? Consider this: Is a high school student who gains admission to a “Project 211” university automatically “terrible” just because they didn’t get into Tsinghua or Peking University?
A year ago, after repeated rejections, I might have convinced myself I wasn’t even in the top 20%—perhaps only in the bottom 20% (i.e., 80th percentile). Why else would my applications vanish without reply? I must truly be awful! Even if everyone told me I was great, I wouldn’t have believed it.
But now I hold solid evidence proving my “80-point” capability is real. My hands-on practice is my confidence—I am certain I can handle the responsibilities outlined in those job descriptions.
I interned for several months at a leading medical AI company, progressing from knowing absolutely nothing to independently handling backend development, frontend development, and product work—writing Python, managing MySQL databases, building Vue.js applications, and eventually interfacing directly with clients while supervising other interns and even full-time employees (within this project). This real-world scenario validated that these strengths genuinely boost productivity.
I also participated in an authentic hackathon, collaborating with some of the most talented software engineering students I could find. I led the project’s strategic direction—and once again confirmed the advantages described above.
With this testing complete, I am unequivocally certain: I won’t drown in reality’s turbulent river—I’ll swim effortlessly, even enjoying the ride.
At this point, I’ve clearly defined both my floor and the general range above it: I’m confident I can become a solidly above-average developer. Moreover, I’ve tentatively probed my ceiling—I believe I possess the capacity to lead, managing a small team without difficulty.
Excerpted from “A102 Job-Hunting Diary (I): What Does It Feel Like to Fail Twice in ByteDance Interviews?”
Confidence stems from competence; competence arises from practice. A college undergraduate capable of publishing in a prestigious sub-journal won’t hesitate when facing elite academic labs. Similarly, an intern who performs at full-time employee level won’t flinch when applying to top-tier positions.
If you aim to overcome a challenge but fear you can’t clear the threshold—then train relentlessly until your confidence overflows.
If You Want Egg-Fried Rice, Crack Eggs—Then Fry the Rice
My resume submissions followed a crystal-clear focus: Medicine + AI + Management roles. After repeated rejections pursuing this path, I faced two options:
- Join a smaller company—but stay within this domain.
- Join a large company—but shift domains.
From the mainstream perspective, possessing a medical background and technical experience makes landing a stable, well-paying, socially prestigious “screwdriver” role in medicine-related teams at big tech firms seem perfectly reasonable. So why not?
Yet what I truly seek is to lead a project—to build software that is genuinely useful, user-friendly, and intuitive—to deliver tangible value to medical education, clinical practice, and research. Wasn’t stepping out of the hospital system precisely to pursue this goal? I transitioned from one ecosystem to another, patiently awaiting the day my voice carries weight—though I don’t know when that day will arrive, or whether it ever will.
I want a delicious bowl of egg-fried rice: not overly oily or salty, freshly stir-fried, steaming hot, garnished with my favorite diced ham and cucumber. So what should I do right now? Crack eggs—then fry the rice.
- I shouldn’t take the easy way out by opening a food-delivery app, ordering a dish that arrives twenty minutes later—only to discover it bears no resemblance to the egg-fried rice I craved—leaving me no choice but to cook it myself anyway.
- Nor should I notice half a block of tofu about to spoil in my fridge tomorrow and impulsively make Mapo Tofu instead—only to realize, once finished, that I still crave egg-fried rice… yet am too full to eat it.
- And certainly, I shouldn’t convince myself: “Everyone’s eating tomato-and-egg noodles lately—so should I.”
For eight years, I’ve eaten countless dishes I never wanted. My greatest insight from that time? Realizing I actually want egg-fried rice. So—what’s next? Crack eggs. Then fry the rice. Why not?
Postscript
I sincerely thank a friend—wise, patient, and selfless—who supported me immensely during my job search. Much of this series originates from our conversations.
Wishing you such a friend, too.