I've spent most of my life trying to figure out what it takes to feel at home.
Not professionally. Personally. From the inside.
The Origin
That's not how I would have described it for a long time. I would have said I was building a career, or practicing design, or studying color. All of that was true. What I didn't say out loud was that underneath all of it was the same question I'd been carrying since I was a child.
I grew up in a household where stability wasn't reliable. I learned very early to be self-sufficient, to not create additional problems, to focus on things I could control. Home, in the way most people mean the word, wasn't something I took for granted. It was something I observed from a distance and wondered about.
I moved. A lot. Iceland at seventeen. Brussels. Beijing. New York. Canada. Each move was partly exploration and partly the same thing: trying to find the environment that would finally feel like mine. For a long time, I thought leaving was the answer. Eventually I understood that leaving was just the question in a different form.
I stayed in Canada. I built a life, a real one, with a person I chose and a home I made decisions about deliberately. I built a career around design and color. I co-created a methodology for personal color identity that tried to answer the question more formally: how do you find the specific palette that belongs to you, not the one the trends are recommending, not the one that photographs well, yours.
And then I started preparing two rooms for two children who had never had a home that felt like theirs.
What I Learned in the Field
In Asia, I worked with non-profits designing sustainable housing for underprivileged communities. We used bamboo and local materials to create safe, low-cost living spaces.
It taught me that good design isn't about budget. It's about understanding what people actually need.
In Europe, I watched families thrive in 800 square feet. It taught me that you don't need more space. You need better space.
In North America, I saw people convinced they needed bigger homes. It taught me that most space problems are misdiagnosed. They buy storage when they need better layout. They organize when they need better systems. They follow trends that don't fit their life.
The Personal Turning Point
When we renovated our own 1,200 square foot townhouse in Vancouver, I made mistakes. Not catastrophic, but enough to learn from.
But the real transformation came when we prepared our small home for two adopted children - both neurodivergent, both carrying trauma from their early years.
Suddenly, every design decision mattered differently.
This wasn't about aesthetics anymore.
This was about creating safety.
Reducing sensory overwhelm.
Supporting nervous systems that needed calm.
That's when everything I'd learned professionally clicked into place personally.
I understood why diagnosis matters more than decoration.
Why function trumps trends.
Why your space needs to work for YOUR life, not someone else's ideal.
The Work That Shaped My Philosophy
Throughout my career, I've worked with communities often overlooked by traditional design:
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Underprivileged families in Asia who deserved safe homes regardless of their income.
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Battered women in Vancouver rebuilding their lives and their spaces.
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Families told their homes aren't "good enough" by design standards that don't reflect their reality.
These experiences taught me something crucial:
Generalized design solutions don't work because people aren't generalized.
Your relationship with color is shaped by your memories.
Your organizational needs reflect your neurology.
Your space problems are unique to YOUR life.
Cookie-cutter solutions fail because they ignore this fundamental truth.
Why I'm Teaching Now
I'm transitioning from traditional client work to education because I realized something:
Not everyone can afford to hire a designer, but everyone deserves to understand their space.
The diagnostic skills I use professionally - seeing what's actually wrong, understanding why solutions fail, knowing what to fix first - these can be taught. You don't need me to design your home.
You need to learn how to see your space clearly. Once you understand what's actually wrong, you can make better decisions about what to fix yourself, what to buy, and when it's worth getting expert help.
My Approach
Understanding what's actually wrong before spending money to fix it.
Diagnosis Before Solutions
Your home should work for your life, not look good for Instagram.
Function Over Performance
Your space should reflect your story, not design trends.
Personal Over Trendy
I teach you methods, not create ongoing reliance on my services.
Empowerment Over Dependency
Your color story comes from your memories and experiences, not what's trending on Pinterest.