I spent four hours trying to fix a bug I could have solved in ten minutes.
Four. Hours.
My manager walked by my desk three times during those four hours. Each time, I tilted my screen slightly, pretending to be making progress. Didn't want him to think I couldn't handle the task. Didn't want to admit I was stuck.
By the time I finally gave up and asked for help, he looked at my code for about thirty seconds. "Oh, you're missing this one line here. Common mistake." He added it. The code worked immediately. I'd wasted four hours because I was too proud to ask a simple question.
Here's what nobody tells you about internships: everyone expects you to ask questions. Except you, apparently, who thinks you're supposed to magically know everything. During my first week at CuriousRubik, I was drowning. Acronyms I didn't recognize, tools I'd never used, processes nobody had explained. I was frantically Googling everything while pretending I understood. Then I attended a team meeting where a senior developer asked: "Wait, what does BRD stand for again?"
A senior developer. Someone who'd been there for years. Asking a basic question. Nobody laughed. Someone just said "Business Requirements Document" and the meeting continued.
That moment changed something for me. If people who actually know what they're doing can ask simple questions, maybe I can too? The permission I needed wasn't from my manager. It was from myself.
Week 2 at CuriousRubik:
"Could you send me the MIRO link?" I had no idea what MIRO was. Everyone else was using it like it was obvious. I Googled it—okay, it's a digital whiteboard tool. But which project's board? Where do I find our team's workspace? How do I even get access? I spent 20 minutes searching, clicking around, getting nowhere. I should have just asked: "Sorry, I've never used MIRO. Could you show me how to access our project board?" Instead, I said: "Sure!" and then frantically tried to figure it out alone. Eventually, I had to ask anyway. My manager probably wondered why I'd wasted half an hour on something that took two minutes to explain.
Month 1 at UnyKloud:
Senior developer: "Just use the staging environment for testing." Me: "Okay." (What's a staging environment? Is that different from production? Where do I find it? How do I access it?) I spent an hour testing on my local machine instead, which wasn't what they meant. When they checked my work, they were confused why I hadn't tested properly. If I'd just asked: "Could you show me how to access the staging environment?" this would have been solved in two minutes.
During a client call at CuriousRubik, they were discussing the client's inventory system. They kept mentioning "SKUs" and everyone was nodding along.
I had no idea what a SKU was. I should have asked right then. Instead, I jotted it down, planning to Google it later. But the conversation kept moving, and references to SKUs kept coming up, and I was getting more lost by the minute. Finally, I worked up the courage: "Sorry, could you clarify what you mean by SKU? I want to make sure I'm understanding correctly." The client didn't even blink. "Stock Keeping Unit—it's basically a unique ID for each product in our inventory."
"Got it, thank you." After the call, my manager told me: "Good question. Always better to ask for clarification during the meeting than to make assumptions and document the wrong requirements." What felt like admitting ignorance was actually doing my job properly.
The hardest questions to ask aren't the technical ones. They're the ones that feel like they expose how much you don't belong.
"Could you explain that again?"
Translation in my head: "I'm too slow to understand things the first time."
"I'm not sure I understand what you want me to do."
Translation: "I'm incompetent at basic comprehension."
"How long should this task take?"
Translation: "I have no idea what I'm doing and can't even estimate my own work."
These questions feel like admissions of inadequacy. Asking them feels like highlighting your weaknesses to people who are evaluating you. But here's what I've slowly learned: not asking these questions is way worse. When you pretend to understand and then do the wrong thing, you've wasted time—yours and everyone else's. When you ask for clarity upfront, you get it right the first time. Managers would rather answer ten clarifying questions than deal with work that has to be completely redone.
I used to think there was only one kind of asking for help: "I don't know how to do this, please help." There are actually different levels:
1. "Can you point me in the right direction?"
You're willing to do the research, you just need to know where to start.
2. "I've tried X and Y, but I'm stuck on Z."
You've made an effort, you can show your work, you need help with a specific blocker.
3. "I don't understand this concept at all."
You need someone to teach you the fundamentals before you can even attempt the task.
4. "This is urgent and I'm completely stuck."
You need immediate help because a deadline is approaching or something is broken.
I've learned that #2 is usually the sweet spot. Show that you've tried, explain where you're stuck, ask for specific guidance. But sometimes you need #3, and that's okay too. Better to admit "I don't know this" early than to fake it and fail later.
Bad way I used to ask for help:
"Hey, my code isn't working." (No context, no explanation of what I tried, no specific error message, just vague "it's broken.")
Better way I'm learning:
"Hey, I'm getting this error: [specific error message]. I'm trying to fetch data from the API and display it, but the component is rendering before the data loads. I've tried adding a loading state, but I'm not sure I'm implementing it correctly. Could you take a look at lines 23-35?" Specific problem. What I'm trying to do. What I've already tried. Where exactly I'm stuck. This makes it way easier for someone to help me. They don't have to debug my entire file or guess what I'm trying to accomplish.
Looking back at my internships, here are questions I eventually asked but should have asked way sooner:
"What should I do when I'm stuck?"
Should I try for 30 minutes then ask? An hour? Is there someone specific I should ask first?
"How do I know if I'm on the right track?"
Should I check in after I make the outline? After I build the first version? Or just at the end?
"What does good work look like for this task?"
Can you show me an example of a similar project done well?
"What are the most common mistakes people make on this type of task?"
This one is gold. Helps you avoid obvious pitfalls.
These meta-questions about how to work effectively are just as important as technical questions. Maybe more important.
This happened once. I asked my senior developer a question, and he said: "Try to figure it out yourself first. You'll learn more that way." I felt dismissed. Like I'd bothered him with something too basic. But I tried. Spent an hour working through it. Got about 70% of the way there. Asked again, showing what I'd figured out and where I was still stuck.
This time, he was happy to help. Explained the remaining 30%, and because I'd struggled with it myself, I actually understood and remembered his explanation. He wasn't being dismissive the first time. He was teaching me how to learn.
There's a difference between:
Most people mean the first one. I was hearing the second one.
Weirdly, some of my questions made me look better, not worse:
"What's the business goal behind this feature?"
Shows you're thinking beyond just coding—you want to understand why it matters.
"How will users actually interact with this?"
Shows you're thinking about user experience, not just functionality.
"What happens if [edge case scenario]?"
Shows you're thinking ahead about potential problems.
"I've researched two approaches—what are the tradeoffs?"
Shows you've done your homework and want to make an informed decision.
These aren't "I don't know" questions. They're "I want to do this well" questions.
That distinction matters.
Knowing when I've tried long enough:
Sometimes I give up too quickly. Sometimes I waste hours on something I should have asked about immediately. Still figuring out that balance.
Asking in real-time versus after the meeting:
I'm getting better at asking questions during meetings instead of pretending to understand. But I still default to "I'll figure it out later" more than I should.
Admitting when I've made a mistake:
"Hey, I think I misunderstood the requirements and built the wrong thing" is still really hard for me to say. Getting better though.
Following up when I'm still confused:
Sometimes someone explains something and I'm still not clear, but I don't want to ask them to explain again. Working on: "Thanks, that helps. Could you clarify one more thing..."
I used to think asking for help showed:
Now I'm starting to understand it actually shows:
The managers and senior developers who've been most helpful? They don't think less of me for asking questions.
They think less of the people who don't ask, make mistakes, and waste everyone's time fixing them later.
Just ask.
That bug you'll spend four hours on? Ask after thirty minutes. That acronym you don't know? Ask immediately. That task where you're not sure what "good" looks like? Ask before you start.
The embarrassment you feel asking is temporary and minor. The embarrassment of doing everything wrong because you didn't ask is way worse. Nobody expects you to know everything. Everyone expects you to ask when you don't. That's not a weakness. That's literally how you learn.