Tomorrow, I begin a new chapter.

For the first time in nearly thirty years, I won't be walking into a design studio, firing up Figma, pinging UX Pilot, or wondering which creative challenge might be waiting for me on the other side of Teams...

...or whether the meeting could have been an email.

Instead, I'll be walking into something entirely unfamiliar.

And strangely... I'm okay with that.

After more than two decades in design—and the better part of the last fourteen years focused on UX—I've decided to press pause.

Not stop.

Just pause.

Like many of my colleagues, I've watched our industry change dramatically. Budgets shrank. Teams dwindled. Expectations ballooned. AI (not Adobe Illustrator. The other AI.) arrived practically overnight and changed the narrative around creativity, production, and value.

I've spent months trying to figure out where I fit into that new landscape.

The truth is, I don't know.

And for the first time in my career, I'm comfortable admitting that.

For now, I'm choosing something different.

Something honest.

Something fresh.

I'm stepping away from design as a profession—not because I stopped loving it, but because somewhere along the way, I stopped loving what it had become.

Design has always been about solving problems.

That part of me isn't going anywhere.

Whether it's designing a UI, improving a workflow, organizing a user flow, helping a customer, or simply making someone's day a little easier, the mindset remains the same.

See the problem.

Understand it.

Improve it.

That's what I've always done.

Usually after asking "why?" a few too many times.

Tomorrow, I'll begin a new job in an entirely different industry.

I won't pretend there aren't some nerves mixed in with the excitement.

There are.

In fact, it reminds me of the night before the first day of school. You lay out your clothes. Pack your lunch. Double-check your alarm even though you've already checked it twice. Wonder what the people will be like. Wonder if you'll fit in. Wonder what you'll learn.

It's been a long time since I've felt that.

And honestly?

It's kind of refreshing.

This isn't a goodbye to design.

Design wouldn't let me leave anyway.

I suspect I'll be that guy critiquing the menu at the local diner... or quietly wondering, "What were they thinking with that font?"

My design eye isn't going anywhere. My portfolio will continue to evolve. I'll keep writing. I'll keep creating. I'll probably continue refining my website because... well... apparently it's never finished.

Creativity doesn't disappear because your job title changes.

If anything, it finally has room to breathe again.

More than anything, I'm looking forward to what comes next.

New experiences.

New opportunities.

New people.

New perspectives.

I'm excited to discover how decades spent identifying problems, asking questions, and searching for better solutions might serve me in ways I never expected.

Design has never really been about pixels or prototypes.

It's about curiosity.

Observation.

Empathy.

Continuous learning.

Those qualities don't belong to one profession anyway.

They belong to the person.

I'm deeply grateful to everyone I've worked beside over the years. Every teammate, mentor, manager, client, and friend helped shape the designer—and the person—I am still becoming.

Thank you.

This isn't the ending of a career.

It's simply the beginning of another chapter.

And for the first time in a very long time...

I have absolutely no idea what the next page looks like.

Which, for someone who usually starts with a wireframe, is a little foreign.

But it also feels wonderfully alive.

Here's to pressing pause.

And seeing what happens when you press play again.