The Computer That Said No
My computer wouldn’t let me upgrade to Windows 11.
Not because it’s slow. Not because it’s broken. This thing still flies - runs everything I throw at it without breaking a sweat. But apparently, some chip inside doesn’t meet Microsoft’s arbitrary requirements, so Windows 11 is off the table. Forever.
The notification popped up a few weeks ago: “This PC doesn’t meet the minimum system requirements for Windows 11.” Cool. Great. My perfectly functioning machine is now officially obsolete according to Microsoft. My options? Buy new hardware to run an OS I don’t even want, or… something else.
I stared at that notification for longer than I’d like to admit.
The Dream I Shelved
Here’s the thing nobody tells you about getting into no-code: it’s a gateway drug. You start building things, automating workflows, connecting APIs - and somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice starts whispering: “You could build this yourself. Like, actually code it.”
I’ve been ignoring that voice for years.
When I was younger, coding felt like the real thing. The actual skill. Building something from nothing, understanding how computers actually work, not just clicking through visual builders and connecting pre-made blocks. But life happens, bills need paying, and no-code gets you there faster. So I pushed that dream aside and convinced myself I was doing “real development.”
But I wasn’t. Not really. And I knew it.
The Microsoft Breaking Point
Windows 11 wasn’t going to make my life better. I knew that. More bloat, more tracking, more things I didn’t ask for and couldn’t turn off. The only reason to upgrade was because Microsoft said so, and because eventually, security updates would stop.
So there I was, facing a choice:
- Spend money on new hardware to run an OS that would make my life marginally worse
- Or finally try the thing I’d been curious about for years but too scared to commit to
Linux.
I’d heard the stories. The horror stories, mostly. “You’ll spend all your time fixing things.” “Nothing works out of the box.” “Good luck gaming.” “Hope you like reading documentation.” But I’d also heard the other side - people who’d switched years ago and never looked back. People who actually understood their systems. People who weren’t at the mercy of Microsoft’s decisions.
The Windows 11 rejection wasn’t a problem. It was permission.
What I’m Actually Afraid Of
Let’s be honest about what’s scary here:
I have no idea what I’m doing. I know about Linux - everyone knows about Linux - but knowing about something and actually using it are completely different things. I’ve never partitioned a drive manually. I barely understand what a bootloader is. The terminal? I mean, I’ve opened it a few times, typed some commands I found on Stack Overflow, but actually working in it? That’s a different world.
And there’s the practical stuff: What if I break something and can’t fix it? What if my workflow tools don’t work? What if I spend a week on this and end up crawling back to Windows with my tail between my legs?
But underneath all that fear is something else: excitement.
Because this Windows 11 thing? It’s not just about an operating system. It’s about taking back control. It’s about finally learning to code properly, understanding systems from the ground up, building things the real way. It’s about that kid who wanted to be a developer before “no-code” was even a term.
The Decision
I’m doing it.
Not as a hobby. Not as a “let’s see how this goes” experiment. I’m switching to Linux. For real. Main machine. Daily driver. The whole thing.
I don’t know which distro yet. I don’t know what desktop environment or window manager or any of that. I just know I’m tired of letting Microsoft make decisions for me, and I’m tired of making excuses for why I haven’t learned to code properly.
The Windows 11 rejection was the push I needed.
So here’s what happens next: I’m documenting this whole thing. The wins, the failures, the frustrations, the breakthroughs - all of it. Not as a tutorial (I’m not qualified), but as a journal. My journey from Windows and no-code to… whatever this becomes.
If you’ve ever felt stuck between the easy path and the path you actually want to take, you’ll get why this matters. This isn’t about Linux vs Windows. It’s about finally doing the thing I’ve been putting off.
Tonight, I’m backing up my files.
Tomorrow, I’m burning a USB stick.
Let’s see what happens when you stop making excuses.
Follow the arch.log series as I document my journey from Windows to Linux, from no-code to actual development, from clicking to typing. It’s going to be messy.