My First Real Project: The Good, The Bad, and The Panic Attacks

2023

That’s the year it happened — the year I stopped just learning about code and started actually living it through my first real web development project.

The Day My First Real Web Development Project Began

I wasn’t expecting it.
One day, my senior — Sir Lloyd (yes, one of the most handsome senior devs I know) — told me we’d be working on a project called LittleLight Kids.

It was a Bible for kids website.
Bright colors. Fun layouts. Videos, images, and stories to make the Bible approachable for children.

Here’s the thing:
I never really dreamed big.
I was content with what I had, never chasing skyscraper goals.
But suddenly… here I was, on a real team, building a real project.

And even though I’m not super religious, working on LittleLight Kids changed something in me.
Because in the process of building this site, I started learning more about God — and about how He loves us, how He plans things whether we wish it or not.

I didn’t know it yet, but this project was about to test my patience, skill, and heart.

The Challenge Nobody Warned Me About

If you’re picturing a cute little 5-page site… nah.
LittleLight Kids had over 300 pages.
Three. Hundred.

That meant:

  • Hundreds of images to format and adjust.

  • Embedding videos without breaking the layout.

  • Making sure the structure stayed consistent across pages.

  • Debugging tiny details that only showed up at 2:00 AM when your eyes were already burning.

And I was still a college student at the time.
Mornings: class.
Nights: work.
Early mornings: school assignments.
Sleep: barely a rumor.

It wasn’t just busy.
It was overwhelming.
There were nights I looked at my code, my screen, my life… and thought:

“Is this it?
Is this the feeling of being a web developer?
Am I even good enough?
What else do I need to learn?
Can I even do this?”

That’s when the panic attacks started.

The Storm

You ever have so much going on that your chest feels tight?
That was me.

Assignments piling up.
Deadlines creeping closer.
Sir Lloyd sending updates.
Me debugging something for hours just to find out it was a missing semicolon.

It felt like I was drowning in work, expectations, and self-doubt all at once.

I’d wake up in the middle of the night thinking about a bug.
I’d submit a page and wonder if I’d done it wrong.
I’d drink coffee not because I liked it, but because I needed it to survive the next hour.

And the worst part?
I thought those nights would never end.

Learning to Dance in the Storm

But here’s the thing about storms — you don’t survive them by standing still.
You survive by moving with them.

Somewhere in the chaos, I started to adapt.
I stopped panicking at every little change request.
I learned to break down problems instead of letting them swallow me whole.
I learned to breathe before diving into another 100-page batch of edits.

More importantly, I learned this:

“Hard times don’t always get easier —
you just get tougher.”

The Rainbow

Eventually… it was done.
The last page was tested.
The last bug was squashed.
LittleLight Kids was live.

And you know what?
I didn’t just survive it — I grew from it.

I walked away with:

  • Better technical skills than I’d ever had before.

  • A work ethic forged in sleepless nights.

  • A deeper appreciation for teamwork (thanks, Sir Lloyd 🙌).

  • And a reminder that faith — in God, in yourself, in the process — can carry you further than you think.

Looking back now, I can say this:

My first project wasn’t just “the start” of my dev career.
It was the moment I proved to myself that I belong here.

Why I’ll Never Forget It

I’ll always remember LittleLight Kids — not just for the code, but for the journey.
For the panic and the pride.
For the way it showed me that sometimes, the most challenging things end up being the most meaningful.

Because at the end of every storm, there’s always a rainbow.
And mine looked a lot like 300+ finished pages and a quiet moment of relief.