(Yep, “Naima Pythonista.” It started as a joke, and it just… stuck.)
Let’s get the “professional” stuff out of the way first, because it’s probably why you’re here, but it’s not the most interesting part of the story.
I’m a developer. I specialize in Python, and I split my time between web development and data science. I’m also one of the founders of the tech blog 10xdev.blog and I’m currently writing my first book <3.
But here’s what I really am: I’m a full-time traveler. I’m a massive bookworm. I’m the person who will strike up a three-hour conversation with a stranger in a coffee shop in a country I just landed in.
I’m not a “thought leader” or some guru on a stage. I’m just a young developer who realized that code wasn’t just a job—it was a passport. It was the tool that could let me build a life I was genuinely, wildly excited about.
If you’re here, you’re probably one of two people:
- You’re an aspiring developer, maybe a woman in tech, and you’re looking at this whole industry feeling a mix of excitement and “oh-my-god-where-do-I-even-start?” You might be wondering if you have to change who you are to fit in. (Spoiler: you don’t.)
- You’re a recruiter or a potential collaborator, and you’re trying to figure out if I actually know my stuff or if I just take pretty pictures for Instagram. (Spoiler: I do. The blog is where I prove it.)
Whichever one you are, I’m glad you’re here. This isn’t a resume. This is my story.
My “Accidental” Tech Career
I’ve got a confession to make: I didn’t dream of being a coder.
When I first showed up to my “Intro to Computer Science” class in college, I was one of maybe four women in a lecture hall. And I hated it.
It felt… cold. Abstract. We were learning all this theory, and I just couldn’t see the point. I was surrounded by guys who seemed to have been building computers since they were kids, and I was just trying to figure out why my “hello, world” script kept failing.
I felt like a total fraud. That “impostor syndrome” you hear about? It was my entire personality for that first semester.
I was this close to dropping out and switching my major to pretty much anything else.
It wasn’t about the code. It was about magic. It was a superpower. It was a tool that could take a huge, human-sized problem and just… solve it.
I was hooked. I promised myself I’d never forget that feeling. I would always, always focus on the “why.” I’d build things for people, not for machines.
My “Work” Life (Which Looks Different Every Day)
So, what do I do? My brain basically works in two different modes.
1. The Architect (Web Development)
This is the side of me that loves building things people can use. I love the logic of a well-built backend. My comfort zone is the Python ecosystem—mostly Django and Flask.
There’s nothing more satisfying than designing a clean API or optimizing a database query so that a user on the other side of the world has a faster, smoother experience. It’s like building a high-performance engine. You don’t see all the intricate parts, you just know it works. That’s my jam. I build the “how.”
2. The Storyteller (Data Science)
This is the side of me that’s endlessly curious.
After a few years of building web apps, I realized I was sitting on a mountain of data. User clicks, sales funnels, server logs… it was all just sitting there. And I needed to know what stories it was hiding.
So, I dove headfirst into data science. I taught myself Pandas, NumPy, and Scikit-learn. I learned how to not just pull the data, but how to clean it, model it, and—most importantly—visualize it.
This, for me, is the “why.”
That’s my sweet spot as a Python expert. I can build the robust app that collects the data, and then I can turn around and be the data scientist who explains what it all means. It’s an awesome niche, and I love it. I get to be the architect and the storyteller.
Why I Traded My Apartment for a Backpack
Here’s the thing. I was doing the work. I had a “good job.” But I was also sitting in the same chair, in the same room, in the same city, every single day.
I felt that itch again. The “is this all there is?” itch.
I had this big realization: My job was 100% remote. My only hard requirement was a solid Wi-Fi connection. So… why was I staying in one place? What if my “office” could be… anywhere?
It was a terrifying idea. I sold my car. I got rid of most of my furniture. I digitized everything I could and packed the rest into one suitcase and one carry-on.
And I left.
That was a few years ago. I haven’t had a permanent address since.
This isn’t a vacation. This is my developer lifestyle. My “office” has been a rooftop in Medellín, a tiny cafe in Kyoto, a beach bungalow in Thailand, and a train crossing the Italian countryside.
This coding and travel life isn’t about running away from work. It’s about running toward ideas.
And honestly? Traveling has made me a dramatically better developer.
The Lisbon Story
I remember I was stuck on this awful bug. I was working on a data visualization for a client, and the chart just looked… wrong. The data was messy, and my code was getting just as messy. I’d been staring at it for two days in a little cafe in Lisbon, getting more and more frustrated.
I was ready to throw my laptop into the river.
Finally, I just closed it. I turned to the table next to me and struck up a conversation with a woman who was sketching in a notebook. She was a local graphic designer.
I ended up trying to explain my problem to her. Not in code, but in concepts. “I’m trying to show how this one weird thing is pulling all these other numbers out of balance, but it just looks like a mess.”
She listened, grabbed a napkin, and started drawing shapes. “What if it’s not a line chart?” she asked. “What if it’s a ‘tree,’ and you can see the ‘sick’ branch? Or what if it’s a series of circles, and the ‘wrong’ one is a different color?”
It was a total “aha!” moment.
I’d been so stuck in my logical, “this-is-how-you-chart-data” brain that I couldn’t see the simple, human story I was trying to tell.
I went back, scrapped my code, and built it her way. It worked. The client loved it.
That is why I travel.
It shakes you out of your patterns. It forces you to talk to people who think in completely different ways. It reminds you that the world is full of different perspectives, and the “right” way to do something is almost never the only way.
Sharing What I’ve Learned (The Blog & The Book)
My “why”—that feeling of making code click for people—never went away.
Back in 2017, we started a personal blog called techiediaries.com. It was just a place to post our notes, to work through problems, and share solutions we’d found. I figured if we were stuck on something, maybe someone else was, too.
I had no idea what it would become.
It… kind of blew up. That blog, which I’ve since rebranded to 10xdev.blog, has grown into a community resource that has apparently taught and helped thousands of developers around the world. (Which is still wild to me.)
The best part? All the DMs and emails I started getting. They were from people all over the globe, but so many were from other young women, saying the exact same things I used to feel: “How do I start?” “How do you get the confidence?” “I’m trying to learn from this textbook, and I feel so dumb.”
Running the blog and writing all those articles for years showed me exactly where the gaps are. I saw firsthand what wasn’t being said.
So, now I’m building the next step. I’m writing the book I wish I’d had all those years ago.
It’s called The Why of Python: A Human’s Guide to Solving Problems with Code, and it will be ready soon.
It’s not going to be another dry reference manual. It’s a conversation. It’s everything I’ve learned from my blog, my travels, and my career, all focused on one thing: helping you have that “aha!” moment, just like I did. It’s my love letter to Python and to anyone who’s ever felt like an impostor.
So, What’s the Point?
I guess the point is this:
I believe “tech” is one of the most creative and human fields in the world. I believe the developer lifestyle doesn’t have to mean 14-hour days in a dark room, fueled by energy drinks.
You can build an amazing, high-impact career and a life you’re obsessed with. You can be a woman in tech and be 100% yourself. You can be a deeply technical Python expert and a person who’d rather talk about art, food, or philosophy.
I’m not an expert on “the” path. I’m just an expert on my path. And I’m here to show you that it’s possible.
Let’s Connect (For Real)
This is my story, but I’m way more interested in yours.
I’m not a public speaker, and you won’t find me on a conference stage. I’m just a developer, writing code, running a blog, and traveling the world, one Wi-Fi password at a time.
The real conversations, the good stuff, happens in the DMs and the comments.
If any of this resonated with you, I’d love to connect. Follow me on social media—that’s where I share the day-to-day journey, the coding challenges, the travel fails, and the view from my “office” this week.
Let’s build cool things and see the world.