Like many, I cared a lot about titles early in my career. Back then, titles felt like validation. They meant experience. They meant respect.

Part of it was because I felt like I wasn’t always taken seriously. I was short, soft-spoken, not the “assertive” type people expected in meetings. I thought: maybe if my title said Senior, people would finally listen.

And for a while, it felt true. “Software Engineer” was one thing, but add the word Senior in front of it, and suddenly people seemed to pay more attention.

My most recent title was Software Architect, something I had wanted for years. I didn’t just want to be “an engineer” anymore. I wanted to shape what we were building and how we were building it. It might have also had something to do with the fact that growing up I wanted to be an Architect, and this felt like the closest thing to it.

But when I finally got that title, it didn’t feel the way I expected. I didn’t feel like a Software Architect, and honestly I don’t even know what it’s supposed to feel like. The title felt almost meaningless, especially when you’re the only one working on a product. It was just me, doing the same work I’d always done, only now with a shinier label.

And that’s the thing about titles: there’s always a ceiling. There’s always another rung on the ladder—Senior, Staff, Principal, Architect, Distinguished, Fellow. You can chase them forever. And then what?

The more years I’ve been in this industry, the more I’ve realized that titles don’t matter nearly as much as I thought they did. What matters is who you work with and what you work on. The people, the product and the journey.

Because what’s the point of having a fancy title if you dread logging on every morning, if the people around you drain you, or if the thing you’re building leaves you uninspired?

I’ve also seen people chase titles at the expense of the very people they’re supposed to lead. They confuse authority with impact, forgetting that leadership isn’t something you get from a promotion but something you earn by how you show up.

Twenty years from now, no one will care what your title was. Heck, you probably won’t care. What will matter is whether you’re proud of the work you did, and whether the people you worked with would want to work with you again.

And yet… some titles do matter. Not the ones on your LinkedIn profile, but the ones life gives you: parent, partner, friend. Those titles aren’t about validation or hierarchy. They’re about responsibility, about showing up for the people who matter most.

So yes, titles don’t matter. But some matter more than others. And these days the only title I’m chasing is “Best Mom Ever”.