How I Accidentally Became a Full-Time Linux User

What started as curiosity turned into a three-year journey through Linux Mint, Arch Linux, KDE Plasma, Hyprland, and more. Along the way I broke things, learned a lot, and somehow never went back to Windows.

2026-06-14 • 6 min read

If you told me years ago that I'd eventually spend more time editing configuration files than playing games, I probably would've laughed and closed the browser tab.

Back then, Windows was all I knew. I used Windows 10 daily, and when Microsoft started rolling out Windows 11 preview builds, I jumped in immediately. Being one of the early beta testers sounded exciting. New UI, new features, new everything. For a few weeks it felt like I was getting a glimpse into the future before everyone else.

Then reality arrived.

After about a month, I found myself reinstalling Windows 10.

Not because Windows 11 was terrible. It just didn't feel finished yet. Things felt different without necessarily feeling better. Some changes were nice, others felt like change for the sake of change. Eventually I decided I'd rather have a stable system than a shiny one.

At the time, I had no idea that would be the last period of my life where Windows was my primary operating system.

The Linux Mint Experiment

Like many people, my first serious Linux experience started with Linux Mint.

The plan was simple.

Install Linux Mint.

Play around with it.

Break something.

Return to Windows.

Instead, the opposite happened.

The first few days felt strange. I kept searching for Windows solutions to Linux problems. Muscle memory would constantly betray me. Every time I needed software, I instinctively looked for an installer executable.

Then something interesting happened.

I started learning how Linux actually worked.

Package managers suddenly made sense.

The terminal stopped looking scary.

System updates felt cleaner.

The machine somehow felt lighter.

Linux Mint was probably the perfect introduction because it didn't fight me. It wasn't trying to prove how technical I was. It simply worked.

What was supposed to be a weekend experiment turned into an entire year.

The Distro Hopping Phase

Once Linux gets its hooks into you, something strange happens.

You become curious.

Very curious.

Suddenly every Linux YouTube video becomes dangerous.

Every Reddit thread becomes a bad influence.

Every screenshot makes you think, "Maybe I should try that too."

So naturally I started hopping between distributions.

I tried Ubuntu.

Then Zorin OS.

Then Deepin.

Then Manjaro.

Then a few others I've probably forgotten.

Each distro had its own personality.

Ubuntu felt like the default recommendation everyone starts with.

Zorin looked polished and approachable.

Deepin was beautiful but occasionally felt like it cared more about appearance than stability.

Manjaro introduced me to some of the conveniences of the Arch ecosystem without forcing me into the deep end.

Most of the time I wasn't switching because I had problems.

I was switching because Linux users suffer from a condition called "I wonder what happens if I install this instead."

Yes, I Even Tried TempleOS

At some point curiosity completely won.

So I tried TempleOS.

If you're familiar with Linux communities, you probably know exactly why this sentence is funny.

TempleOS is one of those operating systems that everyone talks about but very few people actually daily drive.

Installing it felt less like evaluating software and more like exploring a historical artifact.

I wasn't there because I expected to replace my desktop.

I was there because I wanted to see it for myself.

And honestly?

It was one of the strangest computing experiences I've ever had.

No regrets.

The Move to Arch Linux

After spending a year with Linux Mint, I started wanting more control.

Not because Mint was lacking.

I had simply become comfortable enough with Linux that I wanted to understand what was happening underneath.

That's when I installed Arch Linux.

The first installation felt like a boss battle.

Every guide looked intimidating.

Every command felt important.

Every mistake felt catastrophic.

I still remember reading documentation over and over because I was terrified of typing something wrong.

Then the installation finally booted.

That moment felt ridiculously rewarding.

No operating system installation should feel like defeating a final game boss, but somehow Arch managed it.

A Year of KDE Plasma

For the next year, Arch Linux with KDE Plasma became my home.

And honestly, KDE Plasma was incredible.

The customization was almost endless.

If I wanted my desktop to look like Windows, I could.

If I wanted it to look like macOS, I could.

If I wanted to create some futuristic cyberpunk setup with transparent panels and animated widgets, I could do that too.

Sometimes I spent more time customizing than working.

I suspect many KDE users can relate.

The flexibility was both its greatest strength and its greatest distraction.

Still, KDE taught me a lot about Linux desktop environments and how much control users can actually have over their systems.

The Day I Discovered Hyprland

After a year with KDE Plasma, I stumbled across Hyprland.

At first, I thought it looked impractical.

Then I thought it looked interesting.

Then I spent an entire evening watching configuration videos.

A few days later, I installed it.

That was three years ago.

I'm still using it today.

The Learning Curve Was Brutal

Switching from a traditional desktop environment to a tiling window manager isn't exactly smooth.

The first week felt terrible.

Windows opened in unexpected places.

Keyboard shortcuts became mandatory.

Simple tasks suddenly required learning entirely new workflows.

I constantly forgot keybindings.

I constantly broke configurations.

I constantly wondered if I'd made a mistake.

Then everything clicked.

And once it clicked, going back became difficult.

Why Hyprland Stuck

Hyprland changed how I interacted with my computer.

Instead of managing windows with a mouse, I started managing them with intention.

Everything became faster.

Opening applications.

Switching workspaces.

Managing multiple monitors.

Navigating projects.

The workflow felt more like operating a tool and less like operating a desktop.

Of course, there were downsides.

Configuration occasionally broke.

Updates sometimes introduced surprises.

Random troubleshooting sessions happened at the worst possible moments.

But strangely, those problems became part of the learning process.

Every issue taught me something new about Linux.

Every fix made me a little more comfortable with the system.

The Ups and Downs Nobody Talks About

People often describe Linux as either perfect or terrible.

My experience has been neither.

I've had days where everything worked flawlessly and I couldn't imagine using anything else.

I've also had moments where a graphics issue consumed my entire evening.

I've accidentally broken boot configurations.

I've stared at log files for hours.

I've fixed problems only to create two new ones.

But I've also learned more about operating systems, networking, software, and troubleshooting than I ever did while using Windows.

The frustrations came with lessons.

The victories felt earned.

Three Years Later

Today I'm still running Arch Linux with Hyprland.

The distro hopping has mostly stopped.

The endless search for the "perfect setup" has calmed down.

These days I spend less time tweaking my system and more time actually building things with it.

Looking back, the funny part is that I never planned to leave Windows permanently.

I was just curious about Linux Mint.

That curiosity led to Arch Linux, KDE Plasma, Hyprland, countless broken configurations, a surprising amount of learning, and even a brief adventure into TempleOS.

Somewhere along the way, Linux stopped being an experiment and simply became home.

And honestly, I don't see myself leaving anytime soon.