What I Learned From Failing My First Coding Interview

What I Learned From Failing My First Coding Interview

BY [WAQAR ALI]

How Rejection Taught Me More Than Any Tutorial Ever Could

I still remember the day of my first coding interview as clearly as if it happened yesterday. I had spent weeks preparing—reading articles, watching mock interview videos, practicing questions on LeetCode. I felt as ready as I could possibly be. But when I logged off the Zoom call, I knew without a doubt: I had failed.

At first, it felt like the end of the world. My confidence was crushed. I had imagined walking away from that interview with a job offer or at least a sense of achievement. Instead, I walked away with a pit in my stomach and the sinking realization that I had completely choked under pressure. But strangely enough, in the weeks that followed, something unexpected happened. That failure became one of the most valuable experiences of my career.

Here’s what I learned—not about coding, but about resilience, mindset, and personal growth.

Preparation and performance are two very different things**

Before the interview, I believed that if I prepared enough, success would follow. But I didn’t take into account the human factor—my nerves, the pressure, the unfamiliar format. I knew the theory, but when it was time to perform, I froze. I wasn’t ready for the mental aspect of the interview: thinking aloud, managing time, and keeping calm while being watched. It reminded me that knowing something doesn’t mean you can apply it perfectly, especially under stress.

In hindsight, I didn’t fail because I didn’t know the material—I failed because I didn’t practice performing. Interviews, like sports or music recitals, demand more than just knowledge; they demand control, confidence, and composure. That realization helped me shift my preparation approach from passive studying to active practice, including mock interviews with real people.

You are not your failure

For days after the interview, I kept replaying every mistake in my mind. I called myself names I wouldn’t say to a stranger: “stupid,” “incompetent,” “not good enough.” The rejection felt personal, like a reflection of who I was rather than how I performed.

But with time, I realized that failure doesn’t define identity—it reflects a moment, not a person. I was learning, growing, and building something hard. And part of that process includes setbacks. Failing didn’t mean I was a failure. It meant I was trying.

That perspective helped me forgive myself, and even appreciate my courage for stepping into something difficult.

Feedback is a gift—even when it stings

After the interview, I received a brief note from the recruiter summarizing where things went wrong. At first, I didn’t want to read it. It felt like pouring salt in a wound. But when I did, I found it was more helpful than painful. The interviewer wasn’t cruel or dismissive—they simply pointed out where I could improve.

That feedback became a checklist for growth. I realized that honest input—especially when it’s not sugar-coated—is rare and valuable. It highlighted blind spots I didn’t even know I had. More importantly, it gave me a direction for improvement.

Everyone fails—some just don’t talk about it

When I started talking to friends and mentors about what happened, I was surprised by their responses. Nearly everyone I spoke to had a similar story. They told me about their own failed interviews, embarrassing mistakes, and rejections. I had assumed I was alone in my failure, but I wasn’t. I was part of a much bigger, quieter club.

That realization was comforting. It normalized failure. It reminded me that the polished LinkedIn posts and success stories I usually saw online were just the tip of the iceberg. Beneath every job title and offer letter were years of struggle, rejection, and growth.

Final Thoughts: The Failure That Taught Me to Succeed**

I didn’t walk away from my first coding interview with a job—but I walked away with something more enduring: perspective. I learned that failure is not a wall, but a mirror. It shows you what you need to see if you’re brave enough to look.

Since that interview, I’ve gotten better. Not just at coding, but at interviewing, handling pressure, and being kind to myself in tough moments. I’ve come to see failure not as an enemy, but as a teacher.

So if you’re reading this and you’ve recently failed something important, take heart. You’re not alone. And you’re not broken. You’re just learning.