Lessons From My First Year as a UX Designer
This time last year, I didn’t know what UX was, let alone what a UX designer did. I was a complete novice. Since then, I’ve completed several UX design programs, landed a UX design role, and worked on a handful of design projects for clients across various industries.
Not too bad for a year’s work, is it?
If I’m being honest, my journey from starting my first design Bootcamp last year to where I am currently hasn’t been a bump-free ride. Not in the very least. Rather, I have experienced my fair share of challenges, and sometimes, I didn’t even know what the hell I was doing.
Let’s not even talk about the monster that is Imposter Syndrome, which still kicks me in the butt more times than I’d love to count. I mean, it’s been one whole year and I still feel like a damn imposter.
Does that feeling ever go away?
But I would say the best part of my experience so far has been seeing myself grow right before my eyes — overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles and learning valuable lessons in the process.
Here, I’m sharing 4 of the most important lessons I’ve learned along the way. These lessons can be applied to any field, not just design.
You don’t have to know everything
When I landed my first UX design role, I spent the first few weeks trying to convince my boss that I knew it all. Each time I got the question, “Can you do so and so?” I would always reply in the affirmative. Then spend an eternity trying to figure out how to do whatever it was that was asked of me. I was so ashamed to admit not knowing how to do something for fear that I would be seen as incompetent and shown the door.
As expected, I was constantly burned out.
Then the day came when I’d had enough of living a lie.
During management check-in to review my progress on a task I was given, I had a complete meltdown. Amidst hot tears, I admitted that I hadn’t made any progress. That I was completely clueless as to what to do but was so embarrassed to admit it earlier.
My boss looked at me bewildered. Then the room went silent for what felt like an eternity. The atmosphere immediately became tense. I mean, you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. At that moment, I thought I had made the biggest mistake of my career. Like I had just committed career suicide.
The deafening silence was finally interrupted by, “Why did it take you so long to say this?” A question I couldn’t articulate the answer to. But deep down, I knew the answer lay somewhere at the intersection of fear and shame.
It was, without a doubt, a dramatic moment.
However, after the initial drama that followed my “big reveal,” I felt a sense of relief. As if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. For the first time in my design career, I had admitted that there was something I needed to learn.
And no, I didn’t get fired.
Rather, from that day, I started getting the level of support I needed to thrive. It was almost as if they had been waiting for me to admit I didn’t know everything and could use some help.
The need to “know it all” comes from having what psychologist Carol Dweck calls a fixed mindset. She describes it as believing that your qualities are carved in stone. This mindset ties your self-worth to your current abilities: “I don’t know how to do this, so I’m a failure”. The author suggests instead that we practice a growth mindset: “I don’t know how to do this yet, but I’m willing to learn.”
The sheer amount of things I’ve learned in one year shows that I’m capable of learning anything I put my mind to. So, now, instead of hiding my ignorance and refusing to accept help, I am unapologetically honest about not knowing how to do something.
Growth is not always linear
My UX design journey has been one heck of a roller-coaster ride.
One week I’m like, “Wow! I’m on a rocket here!” And the next week it’s, “Erm… Hollup! Wait a minute! I thought rockets were meant to fly upwards. So why am I here again?”
When I chose this path, I was expecting an upwards-only kind of motion. At least, that’s the kind of picture the success stories on social media painted. But rather, what I’m experiencing is a series of ups and downs, enough to give a see-saw a good run for its money.
I mean, I knew I would be doing a whole lot of learning. Yes, that’s a given. But somehow, I managed to miss the memo that said I’d also be doing an awful lot of unlearning and relearning.
There have been times when I put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into learning something. And after grasping the concept, I start patting myself on the back for a job well done. Only to realize later that there is a much better way to do it. Then it’s back to the drawing board, to regurgitate all the knowledge I’ve spent so long digesting in order to make room for the new.
Relatable? It’s such a bummer, that’s for sure!
However, even though it seems like a two-step forward, one-step backward kind of journey, when I zoom out and look at the big picture, I see overall growth. I’ve made tremendous overall progress from where I started to where I am now.
Even the temporary setbacks are great because they have helped me appreciate my victories more. So, yeah, dips and rebounds are what make growth feel more exciting.
Comparing yourself to others is pointless
With the volume of success stories flying left, right, and center on social media, it is all too easy to fall into the comparison trap.
One minute I’m feeling pretty satisfied with my achievements and patting myself on the back for making it so far. The next minute, I find myself scrolling aimlessly through LinkedIn and getting hit in the face with a post that says: “Three months ago, I started teaching myself how to design. Today, I got hired by Meta!”
Holy crap!
I get stopped dead in my tracks and start wondering if I’m doing this design thing the right way. “Why am I moving like a snail?” “Am I even making progress?” I start butt-kicking myself over a random post that could have easily been a lie.
It’s ingrained in us as human beings to compare ourselves to others. In a matter of seconds, one can go from a mountain of contentment to a valley of self-doubt based on an internet post from an unknown stranger.
To curb the urge to compare myself to others, this is what I did: I started reaching out to my contemporaries whom I admired on the internet. From the conversations, I noticed that they were going through the same struggles as I was. This helped me understand that things are not always as rosy as they seem on the internet. Hence, comparing my real-life self to someone else’s internet persona is pointless.
Remember that we always try to present our best selves on social media. So, the grass is rarely as green as it seems on the other side.
It’s okay to ask for help
It really does take a village.
The first time I got to understand the importance of collaborative effort was while working on my first design project during design Bootcamp.
It was our first week in the program. We were split into teams and given a problem to solve as a team. Being my first ever design project, I had this grandiose idea of how I wanted it to turn out. My teammates, however, didn’t share that vision. They weren’t so keen on creating “the best project the world has ever seen.” I was frustrated by their lack of enthusiasm.
And in no time, I began to see it as a “me versus them” affair. I wanted to do it all on my own. And that was exactly what I did.
Well, as you might have guessed, the result wasn’t great. That project flopped.
I did learn a valuable lesson, however, which is the importance of teamwork and asking for support when necessary.
School teaches us to view our peers as competitors. I mean, we’ve all experienced the struggle to take the first position in class or the desperate effort to win a gold medal in extracurriculars. We are made to believe that there can only be one winner. So by the time we are adults, individual competition (rather than team competition which is less selfish), is already ingrained in us and we see others as competitors.
But, rather than seeing it as a “me versus them” scenario, it is better to think of it as: “me plus them versus our goal”.
Asking for help has helped me explore new ways of thinking and seeing things. And the best part is that each time I ask for help, I am always amazed at the number of new ideas I never would have thought of otherwise.
Above all this, one important lesson I’ve learned is patience. To allow myself to move at my own pace while working towards becoming a great designer. Because according to Earl Nightingale, “Success is the progressive realization of a worthy goal.”
Although I still sometimes feel like a toddler in their mother’s shoes, I know that I have come a long way from where I was last year. And I’m super proud of myself for putting in the work while being grateful to everyone who has supported me thus far in this journey.
I look forward to taking part in more innovative design projects and making meaningful contributions through design.
