I grew up curious about systems — not just how they're built, but why they quietly fail the people relying on them. That curiosity turned into a career: two decades moving between marketing, analytics, product and technology, usually landing wherever a problem didn't fit neatly into one department's job description.
What I care about hasn't changed much in twenty years. I want to understand how something actually works, find the part that's costing more than anyone realizes, and fix it in a way that holds up after I've moved on. I'm drawn to ambiguity for the same reason some people are drawn to a puzzle — not because I enjoy the mess, but because I enjoy what's on the other side of it.
My dream has always been less about a title and more about range — to be someone who can sit in a strategy conversation in the morning and a technical one in the afternoon, and be genuinely useful in both. I've spent most of my working life building toward exactly that, one uncomfortable, cross-functional problem at a time.
Right now, my goals are simple to say and harder to live out: keep leading teams and problems worth leading, keep building things — frameworks, resources, small products — that make someone else's job easier, and keep writing, because business was never the only place I found people interesting. If there's a thread running through all of it, it's that I'd rather leave something better than I found it than leave it alone.