No. 5: Finding work in tech

Ghosted after a job offer and other adventures

I started writing this post in July. It was supposed to answer the most common question I get from designers I mentor:
How do I find work in tech?

Up until this summer, I could’ve answered confidently. But something has shifted in the industry and I’m still trying to make sense of it.

So instead, this became a reflection on everything else.
What happened. What didn’t. What I lost. What I found.

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No. 10

This should be my tenth post. Instead, it’s my fifth.

Most of what I’ve written lately felt too personal to share.

So here’s the year, loosely categorized:
Lived in my dream apartment.
Got my first tattoos.
Mentored over 100 designers.
Painted again.
Got super into Pilates.
Freelanced again.
Started this Substack.
Briefly became a startup co-founder.
Reconnected with my best friend.
Ghosted by a well-known startup CEO after a handshake job offer (very Miami).
Epic hike through Twin Peaks.
Was told I lacked “design depth.”
Phew.

There’s absolute uncertainty about what the future holds, but I’ve made peace with that.

New is nice, always.

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Failure

Strangely, failure doesn’t scare me anymore.

One of the rituals I loved in tech was the sprint retrospective—looking back at what worked, what didn’t, and what we’d change.

My biggest failure this year came in November. I spent months co-founding a startup aimed at improving the emotional and social well-being of children aged 10 to 18. We had big ambitions.

I became a better designer. I finally started letting go of my people-pleasing tendencies. I refused to compromise my well-being or the quality of my work. That meant ending relationships with a few clients who were demanding fast, mediocre results at the expense of long-term value. It cost me. But not as much as staying would have.

Designers tend to be generous. We’re also chronic people-pleasers.

If that’s you, I highly recommend Set Boundaries, Find Peace a book by Nedra Glover Tawwab. It’s a practical guide to drawing the line and prepares us for what happens when we do.

Someone recently asked me what I’m most afraid of. I’m most scared of not being able to provide for my daughter. Or something happening to her.

But failure? Not so much anymore.

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Connection

A long time ago, I used to design bespoke wedding invitations. The work was all about expressing sentiment, personality, and elegance through ink, paper, and texture. Clients got to pick colors, papers, illustrations. I translated all of that into something beautiful and tangible.

It was deeply human.

UX used to feel like that. Like designing something bespoke, something personal, something that made people feel connected to the product. To the experience. To the brand.

UX used to be a lot like designing wedding stationery.

Miami Vibes

The other day, my daughter explained “bad vibes” to me.

“People with bad vibes have good souls, but they confuse you. One day they agree with the plan. You do the work. Next week they act like you did it all wrong. Then they change the plan again.”

So true.

This year, I encountered a lot of bad vibes. Especially from grown adults in positions of power.

One particularly surreal experience came from a well-known Miami startup CEO who offered me a job in person. He shook my hand. Gave me his number. Promised an offer letter. I followed up. He ghosted.

That’s bad vibes.

But I also encountered lots of good vibes. New friends. Reunited ones. A stronger connection with family.

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Loss

I miss working at a tech company. Freelancing has its perks, but after years in tech, the “normal world” feels… slow. And weird.

Tech has its own language. It’s own urgency. It’s own expectations. When you try to leave it, you realize how intense it really is and how little most people understand that intensity.

Very few people know what it took for me to go from making $50,000 a year to $145,000. Fewer still know what it cost me.

Two years ago, I made over $200,000. For a designer, that’s a lot.

I bought a house in Miami.

Eventually I quit the job and sold the house because neither felt like a win anymore.

It’s been a lonely road.

When I moved to the U.S., one of the first things I learned was that when someone asks “How are you?”, the correct answer is “Great! How about you?” Anything else is oversharing.

That’s changing.

In the past six months, I’ve seen people get deeply personal on LinkedIn. It’s now completely acceptable to say you’re struggling.

Maybe we’re all just really tired.

What a year it’s been.

Cheers from Miami,

Eva