I grew up knowing what it felt like to navigate spaces not designed for you. To show up and quietly adjust. To make yourself smaller so the room could stay comfortable.

I thought I had made peace with that feeling.

Then my daughter Eman was born with Down syndrome — and everything I had quietly accepted became something I could no longer set aside.

I sat in hospital rooms. I attended IEP meetings. I watched systems — designed by well-meaning people — quietly exclude the very humans they were built to serve.

And I started asking a different question.

Not “how do we design this?” But “who are we designing this for?”

That question didn’t just change my perspective. It changed my career.

I had spent years building marketing systems, designing digital experiences, and creating community programs. I was good at the work. But the work changed when the question changed.

I started looking at every project — every website, every workshop, every facilitated session — through the lens of the person most likely to be overlooked. And every single time, designing for that person made the work better for everyone.

That is the foundation of everything I do now.