Introduction

Once upon a time, in a room full of glowing laptops and unfamiliar faces, I stepped into a gathering of creatives hoping to pick up new skills for the journey ahead. What I found instead was something unexpected: new creative energy, human connection, and the reminder that so many of us are out here… navigating the same questions, struggles, and hopes as we try to figure it all out.

I recently got back from my first big design conference, Figma's ConFig, and I genuinely didn’t expect it to hit me like it did. I knew I’d learn things, sure! But I didn’t realize how much I needed the feeling of being around so many people who get it. Designers, builders, thinkers. People obsessed with the same weird, specific things I think about all the time. I felt at home.

As an introvert, I usually find events like this draining, but this one felt different I wanted more time in this energy. There was always something to talk about, someone to connect with. Even when I found myself pulling away (as I tend to do), someone would reached out and pulled me back in. I think of it like this: At a pool party I won’t jump in, but if I fall (or am pushed) in… well I'm wet now so might as well enjoy (though still I may slowly make my way back out lol).

Beyond the people, the event reminded me how lonely it can be without creative community. It made me crave more spaces where I don’t have to shrink myself to fit, where I can just belong.

The Human Stuff

One of the most powerful parts of ConFig was how open and vulnerable many of the talks were. There were so many moments that made me pause, and think not just about design, but about how I approach life.

Here are a few things that stuck with me:

• There’s power in seeing your own questions reflected back at you.

• Deliberate friction has value. It makes us slow down, notice more, and care more. In both design and life, effort builds meaning.

• You don’t need to know how before you start. Do it anyway. The work teaches you.

• You don’t have to be perfect to use your voice.

• Start small. You don’t need permission to begin.

And then there’s play! What is play? It’s time spent without purpose. It’s something you don’t want to end. It invites presence and dissolves self-consciousness. Being in the state of play, present, unguarded, and fully engaged, is essential to creativity, connection, and feeling alive. These ideas/reminder weren’t just helpful they were freeing. They reminded me that creativity is often messy, nonlinear, uncomfortable, and still 100% worth it.

Lessons in the Craft

Naturally, the design side of me was thriving. The sessions challenged me to reframe what it means to create well. Not just in the final output, but in how we think, explore, and collaborate.

how different people navigate the web. I’m trying to pay closer attention to things like screen readers, keyboard flows, and the invisible structure behind a page. I’m learning how headings can function like a table of contents, and how landmarks can help users orient themselves. Design isn’t just visual—it’s functional.

Other talks unpacked the importance of creative observation, growth through experimentation, and the confidence that comes from testing small ideas and learning fast. It’s not about chasing perfection. It’s about making better next. Whether that’s through session recordings, feedback loops, or simply watching someone use what you built.

A few reminders I’m keeping close:

• Designers are noodlers.

• You learn by doing, every step teaches you something new.

• Don’t wait for permission. You already have what you need to start.

• Stop being scared to share, to show up, or to iterate out loud.

Design Notes That Apply to Life

Throughout the conference, I kept noticing how deeply design mirrors life.

There was a framework called RADAR about when to sunset a product. It outlined how to read feedback, assess what matters, decide, act, and reflect. That same flow applies when evaluating friendships, jobs, creative paths, even relationships. Are we holding on out of love, or out of inertia? Is this still aligned, or just familiar?

Another talk reminded me that a roadmap is not a rulebook. We don’t have to follow plans rigidly. We’re allowed to change our minds, gather more information, and shift. It doesn’t mean we’re lost. It means we’re learning.

The idea of deliberate friction stuck too. Removing all struggle can flatten meaning. Intimacy, joy, and learning require effort. And that effort, in life and in work, is often what makes it memorable.

Notes from Practice

One of the gifts in our conference swag (so much swag was gotten) was Figma’s book, Practice: A Book About Design & Craft. And I have to say, this little thing packed a punch.

Here’s what stuck with me:

• Collaboration means trusting others to take the idea somewhere unexpected.

• Art direction can be less about control and more about co-ownership.

• Design isn’t just craft. It’s storytelling, iteration, and sometimes, letting go.

• The best design is opinionated. Quality isn’t perfection.

• Writing that works comes from getting it down, stepping away, and revising.

• When we follow a roadmap too rigidly, we miss the better path.

• A website can be a living space, not a fixed destination. That applies to us too.

It also covered how to pitch, how to make space for a handmade web, and how to let creative decisions evolve through practice. One line really stuck with me: "A website doesn’t need to be anything but your own." That’s how I want my creative work to feel too. Less about fitting expectations. More about building things that reflect where I’m at and where I want to go.

Closing Thoughts

ConFig left me inspired, challenged, and surprisingly emotional. I came to learn more about tools and techniques. I left reminded of why I love this work and what it means to do it alongside others.

I’m still processing all of it. But what I know for sure is this: I’m not looking to just fit in anymore. I’m looking for places, projects, and people where I can fully belong.

And I’m going to keep building until I find them, or make them myself.