Growing into Linux

For a long time, Linux was one of those systems I had heard about but never really considered. It felt like something for other people. People who were comfortable with black screens, who memorized commands, who apparently didn’t care much for clean menus or polished interfaces. I was perfectly fine working in graphical environments. As long as things worked, that was enough. I didn’t feel any urge to look further.

And honestly, I found the terminal intimidating. The idea that one wrong command could completely break your system stuck with me. Linux and the terminal were inseparable in my mind, so avoiding one meant avoiding the other. Linux simply didn’t feel like it was for me.

The terminal as a necessary evil

The first times I worked in the terminal were purely out of necessity. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. Small tasks: running a command that couldn’t be done elsewhere, checking something that wasn’t visible in a GUI, editing a configuration file because there simply was no button for it.

At first, it felt slow and uncomfortable. I had to look everything up. I didn’t always understand what I was doing. But precisely because of that, something started to shift. The terminal turned out to be less mysterious than I expected. What you typed was what happened. No hidden layers, no visual distractions, no guessing. You gave an instruction and got a response.

Slowly, I noticed that I stopped avoiding the terminal and started gravitating toward it. Not because it was “cool,” but because it felt faster, clearer, and more consistent than many graphical tools.

Understanding instead of appearance

What stood out most to me was how the terminal forced me to think about what I was actually doing. In a GUI, you often click without considering the steps underneath. In the terminal, you have to know what you want and how to ask for it.

That could be frustrating, but it was also educational. I started to understand processes. Files, permissions, services, paths, users. Things that had always existed, but had remained invisible to me. The computer became less of a black box and more of a system that was logically put together.

From that point on, my preferences began to shift. Fancy dashboards looked nice, but suddenly felt clumsy. The terminal wasn’t prettier, but it was more honest.

What Linux actually is (and why it feels so different)

At this stage in my journey, I started asking myself a more fundamental question: what is Linux really, and why does it feel so different from systems like Windows or macOS?

At its core, Linux isn’t a single, finished product with one fixed vision of how you should work. It’s an open system, built from separate components that form a whole. Where other operating systems tend to focus heavily on ease of use and uniformity, Linux is much more about control, transparency, and freedom of choice.

That difference shows up on many levels. Linux is extremely stable, largely because it was designed to run for long periods without interruption. It’s no coincidence that it’s the default choice for servers. Updates rarely feel like a gamble; they feel deliberate. Processes are visible, errors can be traced back to their causes, and almost everything can be configured if you want to.

Another key difference is that Linux doesn’t shield you from the inner workings of the system. Where other systems try to hide complexity, Linux exposes it. That sounds intimidating, but it’s actually liberating. You don’t have to understand everything, but you can. And that makes the system feel honest—nothing really happens behind your back.

For me, Linux stopped feeling “difficult” and started feeling logical. It asks something of you, but it also treats you as someone who is allowed to learn and think along.

Servers as an accelerator

My real deep dive started when I became more active on servers. And servers, almost without exception, run Linux. There’s no room for doubt or aesthetics there. Things simply have to work. Stable, predictable, and efficient.

On servers, I didn’t learn Linux as a “daily desktop operating system,” but as a foundation. Everything runs on it. Everything can be configured. Everything is visible—if you know where to look. Logs, services, network configuration, user permissions: it all comes together.

I realized how much satisfaction I got from that. Solving problems by understanding what went wrong, not by randomly changing settings. Linux didn’t feel complicated here; it felt consistent. If something didn’t work, there was always a reason. And that reason could be found.

That’s where I became a real server enthusiast. I loved setting systems up cleanly, optimizing them, maintaining them. Linux no longer felt like something I worked against, but something I worked with.

Bringing Linux to my own machine

Only then did I feel comfortable bringing Linux onto my own machine. Not immediately as a primary operating system, but inside a virtual machine. That felt safe. A space to experiment, without risk.

In that environment, my appreciation for Linux grew even more. The calmness. The lack of noise. The feeling that the system wasn’t trying to steer me, but instead gave me room. I could set things up exactly the way I needed—no more, no less.

At the same time, my MacBook remained my main work machine. And it still is. I’m not dogmatic about it. Some things simply work better for me in macOS. Linux doesn’t have to replace everything to be valuable.

But my perspective had permanently changed.

Why Linux stuck with me

What makes Linux so powerful for me isn’t a single feature or a specific distribution. It’s the mindset baked into it. The idea that you, as a user, are taken seriously. That you have choices. That you’re allowed to understand how things work, instead of just using them.

Linux feels free, but not chaotic. It’s structured, well thought out, and flexible at the same time. You can stay on the surface or go incredibly deep—and both are valid. The system doesn’t force anything on you, but it does invite you to look further.

For those who are still hesitant

If you’re at the beginning and Linux mostly feels “too hard” or “not for me,” I recognize that feeling completely. In my experience, it’s rarely about ability and much more about timing. You don’t have to understand everything right away. You don’t have to switch immediately.

Linux isn’t going anywhere.
It waits patiently.
In a VM.
On a server.
Or in that one terminal window you suddenly prefer over a dashboard.

And when that moment comes, you’ll notice that you’re not just learning a new system, but a different way of thinking. About computers. About control. About understanding what you use.

And that sticks.