2024: A year in design
Reflecting on another year as a conversation designer
I stared into the abyss (considered using AI-generated content for this post) and the abyss stared back (it failed to meet my expectations). If I learned anything this year, it’s this: being human is an irreplaceable, beautiful, devastating, messy experience. I’m both happy and grateful to be alive. Okay, so maybe it took a medical scare at the end of last year to put me in that headspace. I’m only human.
I’m only human. I’m not AI. It will never be me.
Let me tell you, the temptation to automate my writing since ChatGPT was launched to the public has been strong, very strong indeed. I was skeptical at the beginning, “Will AI ever sound like me?” and the answer is: yes. It can completely mimic my style of writing, especially once I feed it a year’s amount of linkedin posts. I was almost swayed, absolutely flattered by its imitation. I’ll give an example.
This is how coauthor.studio wrapped up my year:
2024: The year I turned “year three scaries” into an international conversation design adventure ✨
When I first wrote about the anxieties of mid-career design, I had no idea how many of you would see yourselves in that story. Turns out, vulnerability is its own kind of professional superpower.
It’s not… untrue. “Year three scaries” was how I publicly described my career existential crisis and, separately, I do believe that vulnerability is a superpower. But, something’s missing. I went through a lot of emotions in 2024. The majority of them didn’t make it onto social media. How would AI understand why stepping away from work (on medical leave) was an adventure I sorely needed to go through or how I found my way back?
I pride myself in my writing abilities (so much so, my workplace profile banner is a short list of my strengths).
There’s something fulfilling in it. I definitely don’t do it because it’s easy. What I love the most is the humanness of it. I’m writing to connect to my reader, to reach them, comfort them— maybe inspire them? When I write, it’s not only cathartic; it’s also how I’ve built personal connections over my design career. Writing, honest to god writing, is an unspoken connection between people. I hope it doesn’t go extinct.
Back to my 2024 review. This year I had high highs and low lows. I was brash and timid, humble and loud. I was given permission to embrace my naiveté as a designer and proudly make mistakes. It was a great year.
Yes, like coauthor.studio mentioned too (but I won’t include the full quote here), the talk I delivered at Unparsed was one of the highlights of my year.
To be honest though, if it weren’t for the recording, I probably wouldn’t remember giving this talk. I was so beyond nervous. I was up the night before and every night since I touched down on London editing my slides, pushing pixels, judging my content— basically, not getting any sleep. That afternoon, I was running on 3 hours of sleep. It was bad. I was almost 93% sure I had hallucinated how well my talk had been received. Perhaps the claps were a figment of my imagination.
After my talk, I returned my mic to the AV team, sat through a few talks, and met back up with a coworker of mine. I was in the hallway of the conference venue changing out of my heels when several (several!) people stopped to compliment the presentation I had given. Suddenly, I felt vindicated. I wasn’t hallucinating— no, I was on fire! I could feel the strength seep back into my feeble and highly caffeinated body. That’s what I remember about Unparsed: the kindness of strangers and friends alike. I don’t remember how I connected “with a global community of designers who are reshaping how humans and technology communicate,” but I do remember laughs over coffee and hugs with people I had only known online.
Online content is not the full picture, and that’s okay. Certain things we’re meant to carry exclusively in our hearts. I can’t quantify the value of every coffee chat I’ve done. I can’t put to words how much I want to see everyone in this career succeed. I’m happy enough just writing what I can. So if you’re reading this, thank you. To everyone who’s been part of this journey — whether through a conversation, a DM, or silent learning — you’ve shaped how I understand conversation design. Thank you for connecting with me. Thank you for giving me hope that the next generation of designers will be even better than mine.
In 2024, my only professional goal was to get a promotion. It wasn’t easy, but it’s done. It was an all too familiar story: desperately crave one thing for an extended amount of time, put all my focus on it, then one day, achieve it and spend the next few months wondering what the hell to do with it. It happened with this job.
I still remember, on December 2, 2019, a chilly day for Mountain View, I commuted to my office for the last time. I had been on a 6 month contract with Facebook that wouldn’t renew. I filled my quota early and spent the last hour of the workday sending goodbye notes to my team. By the end of the day, as I turned in my badge, I vowed I would come back. I had loved working there. What I didn’t like was contract work. I knew the only way I’d come back was with a full-time offer.
A few years later, my dream came true! I came back to Meta in 2022 as a FTE, this time as a conversation designer for the (ex) Assistant Design team. And yet, in my first 1:1 with my then manager, I confessed I had no other goals beyond getting hired at the company because I hadn’t planned that far ahead. He laughed and said we’d figure something out— this was already a big win and I needed to spend time onboarding anyway.
I don’t know what my next goal should be. What I do know, is this: in 2025, I want to create meaningful space and amplify what truly matters. I don’t have the details yet, but I’m hoping it’ll make more sense as I go. After all, this might be my last year as a conversation designer (by title). Truthfully, I’m a little bit scared of what changes this year might bring. I’ve survived 3 different layoffs on my team. Still, I hope to continue to uphold the legacy of CxD excellence. I want to make my growth mean something.
I’ve never been very ambitious, but maybe I didn’t know any better? 2025, for me, will be the year of figuring out what I want to do with what I have.
