Hey friends, I want to share a little story with you.

I always loved design, but for a long time I had no idea how to actually practice it. While I was raising my two sons, I poured creativity into our home — often procrastinating on chores so I could decorate for an upcoming holiday or family gathering. But I didn’t have the training or the tools to call myself a designer. So when my kids went off to college, I felt a pause. And in that pause, I realized it was time to do something for myself.

So, I went back to school. Instead of sitting in the bleachers, cheering as my sons made baskets from the foul line, I found myself standing on a BART platform at night with a backpack full of drafting supplies. I’d ride into the city for class and come home when the entire town of Moraga was dark and asleep.

The classes were both fascinating and humbling. AutoCAD, Photoshop, SketchUp — all brand new to me. In my very first AutoCAD class, the teacher said, “Take a screenshot.” I froze. I didn’t even know what that meant. Then the instructor added, “If you’re not comfortable with technology, this may not be the class for you.” My stomach sank. For a moment, I thought, maybe this is where I get up and leave. But I stayed. Terrified, clueless, but determined.

Those nights were a test. Each ride home I carried more than assignments — I carried the quiet pride of not giving up. By the end of the semester, I was standing in front of the class while my work was critiqued. And you know what? I was grateful for my age. I could handle the criticism. I could take it in and use it. I don’t think my younger self would have been so steady.

And being older has turned out to be a gift in my work, too. Many of my clients are my age, and they tell me they feel more relaxed with me. There’s an ease that comes with life experience, a softening, and I think that shows up in how I listen — and in how I design.

Going back to school taught me more than software and space planning. It taught me what it feels like to be uncomfortable, to fail, and to keep going anyway. It reminded me that it’s never too late to begin again.

And somewhere between being frozen in that AutoCAD class and standing proud after a critique, I found myself. In the quiet of the empty nest, I began designing not just spaces, but a second act for myself.