About

1. The neat path that broke

I started out in high school as the guy who could "make things with computers". I built an app, saw people actually using it, and realised I loved the whole process: understanding a problem, designing a flow, building, shipping.

The obvious next step was computer engineering. That's what you do if you're good with tech, right?

On paper, it was perfect. In real life, not at all.

It was heavy on theory, low on real problems and people. I felt boxed in, disconnected, and eventually I hit a wall. I dropped out, and it wasn't some heroic "pivot" – it was a difficult, dark patch that forced me to admit something uncomfortable: I don't function well inside rigid tracks where the goal is "pass the exam", not "solve something real".

That failure pushed me back to first principles: what actually gives me energy?

2. Rebuilding with more range

I shifted into economics and international management, and later business. I did an Erasmus in the Netherlands, and then a year at Berkeley.

Berkeley was a big shift: I saw people treating ideas like experiments, not life sentences. You try something, ship it, learn, change direction. You're allowed to outgrow your own ideas.

That mindset clicked. I realised I wasn't "undecided" or "inconsistent" – I was someone who needed range: tech to build, business to understand reality, and product thinking to tie everything to human needs.

I stopped chasing the "one correct lane" and started accepting that my value is exactly in the mix.

3. The corporate chapter

After that, I went into management consulting for a large bank.

It was the respectable version of my life: good salary, big projects, serious people. I learned a lot about payments, banking, and how large organisations actually move (and stall). I also worked absurdly long days, often more than twelve hours.

Inside those systems, I saw how much human energy is spent on maintaining process theatre: meetings, decks, alignment sessions – while the underlying workflows stayed broken.

Over time the mismatch became too obvious. I wasn't there to genuinely fix the system; I was there to keep it moving. That's when I knew I had to leave.

4. Who I am now

I've stopped trying to compress myself into a job title.

Now I work in the in-between:

• I understand business and constraints, not just "features".
• I care about product and how things feel to real people using them.
• I can read and write code, so I don't stop at ideas – I ship.

I'm drawn to problems where there's noise, friction, and people stuck between tools that don't really serve them: students trying to learn, teams buried under operations, small organisations wrestling with systems that were never designed for them.

My instinct isn't "let's make a pitch deck". It's: let's understand what's really happening, map the system, and build something calmer and clearer.