I think I always knew.
I just took the long way here.

I've always been drawn to art and design — the kind of thing that never really felt like work. In high school I studied art and art history for three years; it was the one subject I looked forward to.

Then I spent a few years not listening to that. After the army, where I served as a sports trainer, I studied physical education at Wingate. I love training, I love kids, I respect teachers. But by my third year I couldn't lie to myself: the path led to one room — teaching PE for thirty years — and I couldn't picture it. I wanted to think harder, sit with people, solve real problems. And honestly? I wanted to love going to work. So I asked myself one question: what do I actually love doing?

My uncle answered it without knowing he had. He's one of the pioneers of UI/UX in Israel — thirty years in — and the moment he showed me what the work really was, I knew. That's it. That's the one. It was the first time a career felt built for me: figure out how people think, clear the path so they get where they're going, then design that path so it's a pleasure to walk. The artist and the problem-solver, finally in the same room. I did my UI/UX diploma at HIT and loved every minute.

Here's the thing: everyone is a user. Every day — an app, a website, a menu, a checkout line — you're inside an experience someone designed, or forgot to. The line that's too long, the button that's too small, the step that never needed to exist. I notice all of it, and I itch to fix it.

Everyone is a user.

But the noticing isn't the part I love. The people are. Give me someone describing their problem and I'm already three moves ahead, working out how to make it lighter for them.

Looking back, the zigzag was never a zigzag. Teaching people to move their bodies. Arranging a store so people could find their way through it. Designing products so people move, find, and decide without friction. Same instinct every time — I just took the long way to its truest form.