
Father • Husband – Educational Asset Architect
Who am I when no one is watching?
That’s the question I keep coming back to every time I close my laptop. When the Zoom calls go silent, and I walk home alongside strangers for whom my job title is irrelevant.
I’m a father of two and a husband of one.
A tennis enthusiast who watches more games than he’s willing to admit. I eat what I cook and love to spend my “lazy Sundays” at the 8AM football practice. I make my bed even when staying in a hotel – to start the day with a small win – and walk to stay fit, without letting Instagram know.
These are the things I am when no one is keeping score.
But I wasn’t always comfortable admitting it.
When you train for 16–18 years to become a professional others admire, it’s hard to recognize the other side of you. The one without clear goals or a five-year plan. The one you don’t share with strangers who measure you by nothing but your personal achievements.
This is the side of you that receives your leftover energy.
Yet… the only one people who love you actually want.
We give our best hours to work.
I don’t think this is who we were meant to become – the accomplished individual who’s lonely and empty on the inside.
Still, we chase this dream like it’s the ultimate prize.
However…
You, me, and everyone around is also a parent, a spouse, a child, a community member, a friend, a basketball coach. These parts of you shape your identity. When you ignore them, everything else suffers, including work.
Life taught me to gravitate toward balance. To embrace, nurture, and accept who I am so I can do better work.
I think this is more relevant today than ever before.
The world is changing faster than our job titles.
The future of traditional employment doesn’t look too bright.
Robots are doing our jobs faster, better, and without complaining. In this world, I believe, one-person businesses and project-based work will thrive, while self-learning will probably overshadow any Master’s degree.
For decades, we trained to operate like machines.
Today, machines are trained to operate like us.
Competing with them is a race to the bottom.
But there’s a silver lining in this doom scenario: we’ll have more time to do what makes us human, but only if we let go of what made us “valuable” in the past.
Adaptability is the new corporate title.
The alternative is staying stuck in accurate pessimism instead of moving forward with uncertain optimism.
I choose the latter. Because for the first time (in a long time), the things we do after work might matter just as much as the work itself.
This website mirrors my worldview.
As I keep turning the pages of life, my interests will evolve.
I’ll let my curiosity lead the way, and my priorities set the tone. The projects I’m working on will reflect my worldview at the time. And I’ll probably write my way through every one of them.
I don’t know what our role will be in a world of robots.
But I’ll do my best to serve those who resonate (personally and professionally).
Because this is who I am when no one is watching.
I think this is the most honest introduction I can give.