My earliest memory of creativity started when I was just five years old — the day I decided to give myself a haircut because I wanted a new look. Even then, I didn’t fully understand what “style” meant, but I knew I wanted to shape how I looked and felt. That moment sparked something inside me — the desire to express myself through design, to see beauty in change, and to create my own vision of the world.

Growing up, I spent hours crafting with my mom throughout the year — painting, gluing, baking, decorating, and bringing ideas to life with our own hands. We created Halloween costumes from scratch every year, baked SO many cookies as gifts and spent time creating different posters, clothing and collages for sport events. I remember rearranging my room again and again, always wanting it to reflect who I was becoming after each new experience or inspiration. Even as a child, I understood that the spaces we live in can shape how we feel — and that designing them with intention can transform everything.

Fashion was my first true obsession. I mixed patterns that didn’t always work, paired vintage finds with designer pieces, and accessorized every outfit as if it told a story about who I was that day. I loved purses, shoes, belts — anything that could change a look or express a mood. Fashion gave me a creative language before I even realized design could be a career.

In high school, I was a cheerleader. The socializing gave me confidence and connection, while my love for marketing helped me see how creativity could meet communication. Towards the end of high school, I discovered that I wanted to be an interior designer. It felt like in interior design all my passions could come together: creativity, psychology, self-expression, and storytelling through space. I was fascinated by how a room could influence emotions and how design could improve lives. I took a few detours before I started to study Interior Design — exploring graphic design and psychology because I’ve always been curious about how people think and what draws them to beauty and balance.

After high school and community college, I went to art school, where I finally felt free to fully express myself. It was a time of creative exploration and growth, where I learned to trust my instincts and embrace my individuality. But I also learned that not everyone is comfortable with bold expression — it’s strange how people will sometimes try to bring you down when you’re being true to yourself. That only made me more determined then and now to keep creating, to keep evolving, and to use my creativity as a force for positivity and connection.

Looking back, I realize that who I am now is who I’ve always been — I just didn’t have the words or awareness for it yet. I’ve always been inspired by change, by learning new things, and by other artists who see the world through a unique lens. That curiosity and openness have shaped my approach to design and to life itself.

As I’ve continued to grow, I’ve realized that design isn’t just about how something looks — it’s about how it feels. Every project I take on starts with a story, an emotion, or a memory I want to translate into a physical experience. I love the challenge of taking a blank or outgrown space and transforming it into something that tells a story — something that feels alive.

When I began working on my first real design projects, I quickly learned that creativity is equal parts inspiration and problem-solving. It’s not just about what’s beautiful — it’s about what works, what brings comfort, and what allows people to feel more themselves. I found joy in those moments when function and emotion meet — when a client walks into a finished room and says, “This feels like me.” That’s the magic I chase in every project.

Design, to me, is deeply personal. It’s how I process change, express growth, and connect with others. I’ve learned that no two people experience space the same way — and that’s what makes design endlessly exciting. Each new client, each new home or building, is an opportunity to listen, to learn, and to translate someone’s inner world into reality.

Today, I still carry that five-year-old version of myself — the one who cut her own hair because she wanted to see what “different” felt like. I think she’d be proud to know that same curiosity still drives me, but now I have the tools and confidence to shape not just my own world, but spaces where others can feel inspired too.

Looking ahead, I see my journey not as a straight line but as a collection of moments — each one teaching me something new about design, creativity, and myself. Whether I’m sketching a concept, selecting materials, or walking through a space for the first time, I always come back to one question: How can I make this feel like them?