My Killer Journey to Creative Brand Design

Following a Path That Others Couldn’t See

Growing up, I had two loves: art and storytelling. I was the kid who doodled in the margins but kept a close ear on the lesson, always drawn to creativity yet committed to learning. Art and English were my favorite subjects, but since I attended a technology-focused high school, I had the rare opportunity to study design as well. In those classes, I discovered the Adobe Creative Suite, Photoshop, Illustrator—all tools I couldn’t believe people used for a living. Graphic design was a real job, and I knew right then that it was what I wanted to pursue.

But one conversation nearly derailed me. Right before graduation, I met with my guidance counselor to talk about college majors. When I told her I wanted to study graphic design, she looked at me like I’d suggested a career in underwater basket weaving. She called it “not a solid career path” and urged me to choose something “more stable.” I suppose it was her job to steer me in the direction of something more STEM focused. But this was my passion—so, naturally, I ignored her advice and chose it anyway.

Looking back, I’m grateful I trusted my gut. I hope my journey shows that sometimes the people around us don’t understand our dreams, and that’s okay. If your heart is set on something, pursue it with everything you have. No one else can see your path as clearly as you do.

Early Beginnings: Getting Started in Design

Like I mentioned, my first taste of design came in high school. Attending a technology-focused school gave me the chance to learn the Adobe Suite basics—Photoshop, Illustrator, InDesign—early on. I was hooked. I applied to join the yearbook staff every year, but I never made the cut. Maybe they thought I was overloading on design classes, but I’ll just say this: our senior yearbook might have looked better if I’d been on the team! From there, I went on to earn my Associate’s in Graphic Design and later a Bachelor’s in Integrated Marketing Communications, giving me the foundation to step fully into the world of design.

Even with some great teachers, though, so much of learning design came down to exploring and experimenting on my own. YouTube became my best friend. I’d watch endless tutorials, not only on techniques but also on other designers’ processes. There’s only so much you can cover in a class period, so those late-night YouTube sessions were where I filled in the gaps. The ability to teach myself, to just play around in the programs, became one of my biggest assets.

My biggest struggle in school, surprisingly, was that I felt like I wasn’t being pushed enough. I’d show my work in class, and it was clear I was at the top—but that was the problem. I wanted someone to challenge me, to make me strive for more, but I wasn’t getting that from my classmates. Most didn’t take the work seriously, and without real competition, it was easy to feel stagnant. It pushed me to find new ways to push myself, even if that meant setting personal goals that were higher than what the class required.

My first “real” design project came thanks to a professor’s recommendation. He introduced me to a former student who owned a print shop, and soon I was interning there. They wasted no time throwing me into the deep end. My first task? Design a 60-page health insurance booklet, all on my own. My second task? A full vehicle wrap. I was terrified—no intern should be the only designer on staff, handling projects that complex right out of the gate! I got through it, but looking back, I’m pretty sure those designs would make me cringe today. Still, those early projects taught me resilience and forced me to learn fast. It was trial by fire, but I came out stronger, and that’s what mattered.

Growing Pains and Key Learning Moments

In the beginning stages of my career, my biggest challenge wasn’t just technical—it was learning how to stand up for myself. I had this tendency to let people walk all over me, both as a designer and as an employee. I lacked confidence, and without that foundation, I found myself saying “yes” to everything, even when I felt uneasy or undervalued. I wanted so badly to prove myself that I let my own needs and instincts fall by the wayside.

When projects didn’t go as planned or clients weren’t satisfied, I learned to handle it with grace. I’ve always believed that feedback isn’t a personal attack but a chance to make the final product stronger. Viewing each project as a collaboration rather than just a service helped me welcome constructive criticism without defensiveness. My clients and I were working together to achieve their vision, and sometimes, their feedback led us in unexpected but ultimately better directions.

But during those early days, I didn’t have anyone in my corner. No mentor, no supportive peers—just me, hustling through one-off logo projects for low prices. The burnout was real. I started to lose my passion for design, wondering if I’d made the wrong choice. Designing felt like a chore, and I was struggling to see a path forward.

Finding The Brief Collective was a turning point. Suddenly, I wasn’t alone. This community reignited my passion for design and showed me what was possible in the world of brand design. I wanted to do more than just create one-off visuals—I wanted to tell stories, create cohesive brand experiences, and develop deeper client relationships. So I dove into brand strategy, messaging, and design techniques that went beyond simple logos. I even began learning the ropes of running a freelance business, step-by-step building the confidence I’d once lacked.

This phase of my journey taught me that community matters, that constructive feedback is valuable, and that my worth as a designer isn’t tied to saying “yes” to every request. It was a slow but essential shift, and I finally felt like I was building the career I’d dreamed of, on my own terms.

Discovering My Unique Style and Voice

Finding my unique style didn’t happen overnight; it took years of trial, error, and growth. But this year—2024—was the first time I felt fully aligned with my brand and my vision. Starting Killer Creative Studio at the beginning of the year was a game-changer. For the first time, I wasn’t just creating for others—I was building something that felt like a genuine extension of myself, a brand that truly represented who I am and what I stand for.

If I had to describe my style, I’d say it’s feminine, bold, and modern. These aren’t words I would’ve used a few years ago, but over time, I became more comfortable embracing what I’m drawn to. I didn’t always know what my “style” was supposed to be, but with each project, I refined my taste and developed new techniques. Now, my style doesn’t just feel like something I produce—it feels like an expression of who I am.

Balancing my creative vision with client demands has always been key. Luckily, my clients come to me because they connect with my style and approach, so there’s a natural alignment most of the time. Still, at the end of the day, it’s my job to help my clients reach their goals, and that sometimes means adapting my vision to meet theirs. I see it as a partnership, where my creative direction aligns with their objectives to create something we’re both excited about.

Looking back, there wasn’t one project or client that “defined” my style. It was time and experience that truly shaped it. Each project added a new layer, each client brought a fresh perspective, and gradually, I found myself leaning into a style that feels completely my own. Killer Creative Studio has become the space where that style thrives—a brand built on years of growth, countless lessons, and a clear vision that’s here to stay.

Defining Moments and Career Milestones

There have been a few standout projects that pushed me forward, but one of the most pivotal was designing the Lakeland Chamber’s annual Business Guide. This project was intense—I didn’t just design the magazine cover-to-cover; I also sold the ads to cover printing costs, wrote all ten articles, and developed the overarching theme, “Lakeland’s Bright Future.” That theme flowed through every aspect of the design and content, creating a cohesive, intentional piece. It was a massive project that challenged me on every front, and seeing it come together was deeply rewarding. It showed me just how much I could handle and set a new bar for what I wanted to create in my career.

As for the moment of feeling like I’d “made it”—that hasn’t happened. And honestly, I don’t know if it ever will. Each goal achieved leads to the next, and I’m constantly striving for more. But I’ve never felt more aligned with myself than I do now, and I think that’s more important. Knowing my direction and being excited for what I can accomplish feels even better than a single “I made it” moment.

There was, however, a huge turning point that forced me to make one of the toughest career decisions. I’d finally found a job I loved, and while it didn’t pay much, I was truly happy there. I was putting in late nights, dreaming of all the ways I could make an impact. Then, everything changed. The project I’d been pouring myself into became a source of stress and pain, and I could see the writing on the wall. I knew I couldn’t stay in that environment, no matter how much I’d wanted to. Leaving felt like choosing myself for the first time. It was a moment of taking control, refusing to be treated poorly, and breaking free of a pattern that had kept me stuck.

Each of these experiences built my confidence, even if it took time to see it that way. Living through the tough moments—the burnout, the setbacks, the self-doubt—made me question my passion for design. But ultimately, those experiences pushed me to rediscover my purpose. They taught me resilience, self-respect, and that my voice as a designer mattered. I came out the other side more certain of who I am and the kind of work I want to create. Looking back, I’m grateful for each of these defining moments because they shaped me into the designer I am today, and they gave me the confidence to move forward, no matter what.

Lessons Learned: What I’d Tell My Younger Self

If I could go back, I’d tell my younger self to be more discerning with trust. Early on, I believed everyone had my best interests at heart. I trusted people who, looking back, didn’t deserve that trust, and I ended up learning some hard lessons about boundaries and self-worth. Those experiences taught me to be cautious but also to trust my own judgment, especially when it came to making career decisions that impacted my happiness.

When I first started, I thought success meant landing a job in the design department at Publix—a pretty niche Lakeland dream, I know. But my definition of success has evolved. Now, I see success as setting boundaries that protect my happiness and keep me from letting work control my life. It’s about doing work I believe in, but not at the expense of my well-being. Success isn’t tied to a single title or employer; it’s tied to the freedom to shape my own career on my terms.

My advice to my younger self—or anyone just starting out—would be simple: always trust your gut and know your value. Don’t let anyone tell you what you’re worth or make you feel like you have to settle. You deserve to be respected for what you bring to the table, and it’s up to you to set the standard for how you’ll be treated.

I wish someone had told me that agency life wasn’t the only path, and definitely not the only one worth pursuing. There’s a common narrative in design that working at an agency is the ultimate goal, but it doesn’t fit everyone. I also wish someone had taught me more about business—about the freedom and power I could have as a freelance designer. Learning those lessons later helped me realize that there’s so much more flexibility and potential in this career than I initially thought.

Looking back, these lessons weren’t easy to learn, but they shaped me into a more confident, empowered designer. I know my worth, and I have the freedom to create a career that aligns with my values and goals.

My Vision and Approach to Design Today

My approach to design has evolved tremendously over the years. Early on, I was focused solely on creating eye-catching visuals. I didn’t understand the depth that strategy could bring to a design, and I’d often design logos that looked great but lacked a real foundation. They were exactly what my clients wanted, but they weren’t always aligned with their business goals. Now, strategy is the heartbeat of everything I do. I don’t just create logos—I build brands that tell a story, with every design choice grounded in purpose and intention.

Today, storytelling and strategy drive my process. I’m fueled by learning what makes a business unique—what gets my clients up in the morning, what they’re passionate about, and what sets them apart. The story behind the brand shapes the visuals, guiding every design choice. That’s where the creativity flows from: the desire to communicate who they are in a way that feels authentic and impactful.

To keep growing, I stay connected to the design community. I’ve found so much value in learning from others, attending summits, and listening to podcasts that keep me inspired and engaged. Programs like Design Biz Academy at The Brief Collective have been game-changers, giving me the tools and confidence to keep pushing my boundaries. Community is everything—it reminds me that we’re all learning, evolving, and adapting together.

Looking Ahead: What’s Next on My Killer Journey

I’m excited to keep evolving as a designer by diving deeper into brand strategy, web design, and even copywriting. Each of these areas adds new layers to my killer journey, helping me create brands that don’t just look good but connect and communicate effectively. I want to build brands that feel like full experiences—seamlessly combining visuals, messaging, and user experience. This holistic approach is where I see my work heading.

One of my biggest goals is to start educating others, whether it’s fellow designers or business owners looking to build their brands. I’ve learned so much on my own journey, and I know how valuable mentorship and community can be. I want to give back by helping designers understand their worth and by guiding business owners to create brands that truly support their growth and goals.

Ultimately, I hope my work impacts the design industry by showing that successful brands are built on authenticity, strategy, and storytelling. For my clients, I want to create brands that help them reach their dreams, and for other designers, I want to reinforce that they’re more than just “creatives” hired to make things pretty. We’re strategic partners who bring real value, and I want every designer to know that their work is essential and impactful.

The legacy I hope to leave is one of resilience and authenticity. I want other designers to see that no matter what path they take, success is possible. Even in tough times, we can rise above and continue doing work that matters. My journey hasn’t been a straight line, but each twist and turn has made me a stronger designer, and I hope that’s an encouragement to anyone on this path.

Final Thoughts and Encouragement for Fellow Designers

To every designer out there: trust your gut, and know your worth. Don’t let anyone put a price on your skills or tell you that your work isn’t valuable. Design is about so much more than aesthetics—it’s about solving problems, connecting with people, and creating impact. You bring more to the table than you might realize, and your work deserves respect and recognition.

For me, design is like a puzzle, both personally and professionally. Personally, it’s a continuous challenge that lets me make sense of the world and connect with it in new ways. Professionally, it’s a problem-solving tool, a way to help clients reach their goals and make their mark. Design is art with intention, and that purpose gives it undeniable value.

If there’s one thing I hope you take from my journey, it’s this: struggle and adversity may be part of your story, but they don’t have to define it. Every setback and every obstacle can be a stepping stone to something better. Keep pushing forward, stay true to your vision, and let the challenges shape you without letting them take center stage. Your path is unique, and no matter where it leads, you have the power to create a career that’s fulfilling, impactful, and entirely yours.