//losing myself in the process

When I look back at my design school portfolio, I see someone I barely recognize. The work was wild, exploratory, and unapologetically me. Every project felt like an extension of who I was, driven by genuine curiosity about users and a hunger to make something impactful, playful, and alive.

I was not afraid to take risks. I was not afraid to show myself in the work.

Now, as I try to reshape that same portfolio for my professional career, I notice myself doing the opposite. I keep polishing things down, making them cleaner, safer, and more mechanical. Slowly, everything that once felt personal starts disappearing.

The voice that once spoke clearly through the work now feels quieter. Almost corporate. When I try to bring my personality back in, I freeze. There is an invisible pressure telling me it needs to look more business oriented, more professional, more correct.

Working as a sole product designer taught me a lot. I learned how to ship, how to work within constraints, how to think in systems, timelines, and tradeoffs. I learned to justify decisions, to move fast, and to care about outcomes.

But somewhere along the way, I started choosing shipping over storytelling. Efficiency over exploration. The playful details that once defined my work began to feel like indulgences I could not afford.

I told myself this was growth. That becoming a better designer meant becoming more practical, more business focused, less emotional.

Sometimes, I still believe that.

Other times, I miss the version of myself who would spend hours refining a single interaction just because it felt right. The designer who cared deeply about how something moved, sounded, or paused. The one who saw every project as a chance to create something memorable, not just something that worked.

"The kind of work where you lose track of time because you are genuinely curious."

Lately, I have been questioning the tradeoff itself. Maybe the problem is not choosing between creativity and professionalism. Maybe the real challenge is learning how to let them coexist.

Finding small moments within real constraints where my voice can still show up. Letting personality live in the details. Trusting that thoughtful, expressive design can serve business goals better than safe, generic solutions.

I am still figuring this out.

Some days, understanding the business side deeply makes me feel like a stronger designer. Other days, I worry I am sanding down the very instincts that brought me here.

The tension is real, and it might never fully go away.

What I do know is that the designer I was in school still exists somewhere. Curious. Playful. Restless. The work now is not to go back, but to make space for that person to show up again, even inside professional frameworks.

Because maybe the best designers are not the ones who choose between creativity and strategy, but the ones who learn how to let them move together. Slowly. Honestly. With intention.

if you want, i can next

• tune the bolds specifically for framer typography scales

• add intentional breathing space between sections

• or help you decide which lines should be pull quotes vs body text