From IB Student to Y Combinator Software Engineer: What I Learned Along the Way

14 May, 2025 • by Ignacy Wielogórski

“You're too young” is usually code for “You might actually pull it off.”

This isn’t a tutorial. It’s a story. One about how I went from a stressed-out IB student to joining Y Combinator—without a degree, without connections, and without a plan.

RevisionDojo and the Popup That Changed My Life

It was IB finals season. I was exhausted, juggling past papers, trying to cram Econ and Bio at the last minute.

Then a friend sent me a link: RevisionDojo.
I was skeptical—just another study site? But the AI grading feature was different. I tried it. I got feedback instantly.
I upgraded the same evening.

A few days later, a popup appeared:
“We’re looking for interns.”

I was 17, had a few coding projects behind me, and figured—why not? I applied.

Silence for a month.

Exams passed. Summer began. I’d forgotten about it—until an email landed:
They wanted to interview me.

It was my first ever “real” interview. I was nervous. I talked about my school app, about scraping, about why I cared about building useful things.
I got the role.

97 Interns. 16 Engineers. 1 Opportunity

Interning at RevisionDojo meant owning a real project.
No make-believe assignments or mock Jira boards. Everyone shipped improvements to the live product.

I worked remotely for two months—solo, focused, caffeinated.

At some point, the CTO hinted,

“If you keep going at this pace, we might have something bigger for you. Maybe even a gap year.”

I was the only intern who got that hint.

The Slack Call That Killed My University Plans

Fast forward: July. I was on a summer break, seaside in Poland, when my Slack rang.

It was late. I picked up anyway.

The CTO:

“Do you know what YC is?”

Me:

“Yeah... obviously.”

Him:

“We applied last minute. We got in.”

I froze.

Y Combinator—the golden ticket of startups. I was 18, fresh out of high school. They told me I was one of only two people outside the founding team who knew.

They were flying to San Francisco.
And they wanted me there.

Flying to California at 18

We met in London first—my first time meeting the team in person.
Great vibes. Serious ambition. No fluff.

Their plan:
Drop everything. Move to SF cold turkey.
Three months. No fallback.

I couldn’t do the full 3—I still had final exams ahead—but I decided to go anyway. I flew out for 1.5 months. My first time in the U.S.. My first time building something this real.

The apartment? Insane.
Two flats. Full kitchen. Gym. Founders everywhere. The Silicon Valley cliché, but real.

Then came the grind:
11-hour days. Daily standups. Weekly investor check-ins.
Everyone was stressed—but everyone was all in.

Demo Day and $3.4M Later

After SF, I flew back to Europe, took my finals, and kept working remotely.
We had calls constantly. Shipped weekly. Tight feedback loops.

Demo Day came.

We raised $3.4 million.

Suddenly, everything shifted:
An actual office. Hires. Travel. Legal. Real payrolls. And I was still 18.

What I’d Tell My Younger Self

  1. Build before you feel ready.
    My first app was duct-taped together—but it solved a real pain.

  2. Internships aren’t about titles.
    They’re about ownership. Ship real things, not just practice ones.

  3. Be annoyingly persistent.
    One email changed my path—but only because I applied.

  4. Get obsessed with problems.
    That’s what people notice, not your résumé.

  5. Don’t let age stop you.
    My mom registered my first Apple dev account because I was too young.

The Big BUT: From YC to Re-Evaluating Everything

After a year of working full-time—first remote, then in person with proper office hours—I was living what many would call the dream:

  • I was 18.
  • I had a real salary.
  • My housing and food were covered.
  • I was building with brilliant people at a Y Combinator startup.

And for the first few months, it was the dream.

But over time, I felt more and more isolated.
My whole world became founders in their 20s and 30s, networking events, SaaS support calls. The only people I talked to were from work—or were work-adjacent.

I’d skipped the “normal” path: no university, no campus, no real downtime.

And while the startup was growing, something in me felt smaller.

I missed being around people my age.
I missed real friendships—not the founder-to-engineer, mutual-benefit kind, but the dumb, spontaneous, "let's get pizza at 2am" kind.

That year was the most eye-opening experience of my life.
I learned more than I ever thought possible. I traveled, shipped, and grew up fast.

But I also realized that growth doesn’t only come from grinding.
Sometimes it comes from being still, from laughing about nothing, from not always having a goal.

So I stepped away.

I chose to go back.
To study. To make friends. To be 19—not just a builder, but a human.

A Note to the Ones Coming Up

If you're 15, 16, 17—and you’re building stuff in the dark? Keep going.
People will notice. I did. And it changed everything.

But also know this:

The right time to slow down isn’t when you burn out.
It’s when you realize you’re missing something deeper.

Build hard. Dream big.
But don’t forget to live.
Not every connection needs a LinkedIn headline.
Some just need a cafeteria table and a dumb inside joke.

Want to talk side projects, early startups, or just what it feels like to be 18 and ambitious?
DMs still open.