It is 3 AM, I am barely awake and I need to finish a mockup for tomorrow’s design studio class. Well, tomorrow is practically today. I am carving yellow foam that I have fished out from the dumpster of a construction site with a sharp cutter knife — on my lap. And suddenly, I am somehow surprised by the blood on the tip of the knife. Instead of panicking about the source of the bleeding, I am upset that I stained my mockup because I won’t have time to paint it. And, oh yeah, now there is a hole on my leg.

…

Before starting design school, I never thought about working so hard on something that I wouldn’t mind a deep cut on my body. Something clearly changed in the first few months of being a design student. I loved design but moreover, I somehow started seeing myself poised for future success and nothing could convince me otherwise.

I still can’t remember why this happened. Did I mirror somebody? Was it a lecture I watched? A book I read? Whatever it was, I was clearly poisoned by a promise of an obvious bright future.

Yet, I was so misguided about my aspirations — about why I wanted to be successful. What I wanted was the glamour of success without any conscious thinking about what would make me happy or fulfilled. Moreover, I thought about success as a destination that every hard-working and/or talented person reached eventually. Boy, was I wrong.

During high school, I thought that I was a bit lazy and very talented. In fact, I was a bit talented but very lazy.

Being lazy without knowing that you are, is the worst kind of lazy. I was part of a tightly-knit group of design students who would huddle together, spend copious amounts of time in the studio and work until the morning light. I thought that we worked super hard. But we did so, only the nights before the deadlines. In the beginning, my limited talent carried me. Towards the end of the first year, things started to get a bit rough.

My second year was hell. I was distracted daydreaming about being a great designer one day. I made it to the classes, almost. Even when I was there, I really wasn’t. The worst part was that I still thought that I worked so hard. It was still only just before the deadlines.

Back to my 3 AM bloodbath. Despite my “hard work”, I botched the project. I failed the studio class. That meant that I had to repeat the whole second year.The rest of my university life was variations on the same theme. Except meeting the love of my life, there was not much happening in my academic life. Needless to say, since my work was not great, I never became good at presenting. This made me go down a spiral of introvert hell at the school. Being shy in presentations made the professors attack me even harder which made me even more shy. Still, I was aspiring to become a great designer one day but it seemed more and more hopeless.

…

Until one day…

Between 3rd year and the last, I managed to score a summer internship at a respectable company. I still don’t know how, but I did. There, I found people that I could aspire to. They, in turn, made me feel welcome and valued. As typical intern tasks, I did rearrange the library and made a few photocopies but mostly, I got to learn amazing new skills especially with the computer. I suddenly felt special. Because at school, using computers were forbidden. Yep. “It gave people an unfair advantage” according to our teachers. But here in the internship, I could learn limitless computer skills. For years, I thought, computers were the reason for my summer blossom. Now I know they weren’t.

Since I enjoyed the computer work so much, I was working hard. Really hard and every day. I was trying to mimic my mentors and understanding what it takes to focus all the way, not only before the deadline. One day, some product managers saw my renders and said, “Wow! Cool product! I want one!” I had never heard these words about my designs before. Suddenly, a new world appeared before me. All I wanted was to get other people to say the same about my work. Up until then, I was just churning out work but suddenly, intent and ambition came together. My aspirations suddenly made sense.

As a side effect, I started standing proud during presentations. Being intent and doing your due diligence on a subject is the best remedy for being presentation-shy. Since I did my homework well and left very few holes in my result, I could look people in the eye and ask for feedback without being afraid of being criticised.

When I started my Master’s Degree in Sweden later on, I already had this mindset of being focused and intentional with my efforts. To everyone’s surprise, I always left the school at precisely 5PM every day. Never used sharp tools while tired, finished my thesis project 2 weeks in advance and even received an award for it.After being a more senior designer, I had another revelation about my true aspirations. I learned that my passion was first and foremost in making users happy. This happened while I was talking to a person I had just met at a party. She was telling me how much she loved a product she had, not knowing that I was the designer behind it. I embraced this sentiment so much that I wanted to seek out a profession that valued users’ satisfaction primarily. And, that was the main reason I jumped from Industrial Design to UX Design.

…

My story is not a cautionary tale against working hard. It is probably the opposite. I saw the benefits of working hard on my craft very clearly all the way through my career. The main message here is to understand why you want to be successful.

About a decade ago, I understood that the ultimate goal of a designer should be making meaningful things that make a difference for individuals, the society or the planet. My current aspirations lay in delivering meaning and value, delivered through curiosity and respect.

Today, one of the most carefully considered parts of my day is when I decide what to focus on and how to prioritise things according to my goals. Doing this exercise, gives me a sense of empowerment and purpose. I have clear goals and they drive me forward. But a goal is nothing without a cause. I invite all young designers to consider what their aspirations are and why exactly they want to get there — hopefully before cutting a hole in their legs.