POV: What if I don’t sound like a design founder?

I’ve been debating whether to write this or not. After almost 20 years working in design – the last decade based in New York, running a studio and working with some of the biggest companies out there – you’d think I feel sure of what I’ve built. But I still find myself second-guessing all the time. I’ve also considered that saying any of this publicly could backfire. Maybe I won’t get invited to speak again. Maybe some people won’t like hearing it. But this is something I keep coming back to, and keeping it to myself doesn’t help.

A few years ago I started getting invited to talk about my work. Since then I’ve spoken at dozens of design events – big and small, corporate and independent. And every time, right before I go on stage, I think: what the fuck am I doing here? Why do I even do this? Then I start talking, and it goes well. People respond, they clap, they connect. I get through it every time. It’s not that deep.

Still, public speaking has always felt complicated for me. I grew up in Brazil and for a long time I felt like talking too much about yourself was a bad thing. You had to stay humble. Then I moved to the US and it flipped. I had to apply for an artist visa, and suddenly I needed to make a case for why I deserved to stay in the country. I needed proof. Awards, press, recommendation letters. I had to convince people I was “extraordinary”, just to keep living where I worked.

That process really messed with my head. But I did it. I got the visa, got the awards, worked with big clients, built a studio and hired a team. I did what I was supposed to do. Even so, I didn’t feel like I fit the mould; I don’t sound like a typical founder. I didn’t grow up speaking English. I didn’t come from money. I never had training in public speaking. And I’ve tried to play the part, but it’s not really me. I’ve always felt like I had to prove myself twice – once with the work, and again to be taken seriously.

A few months ago, I was invited to close the main stage at one of the biggest design conferences in the world. It felt like a big moment. But the whole process leading up to it was more intense than what I’m used to. There were multiple rounds of content feedback, rehearsals, a lot of back and forth. I went along with it, but it didn’t feel great.

Then, a couple of nights before my talk, during a speakers’ dinner, someone from the company pulled me aside and said they wanted another rehearsal. The person hadn’t even seen my talk – they were just passing along the message. It felt off. Out of context, and kind of undermining. Like what I’d done so far wasn’t good enough.

I went back and rehearsed on my own. Not because I needed to, but because I felt like I had to prove something. Again.

It worked. I got a huge round of applause. So many people – especially other immigrants – came up to tell me it meant something to see someone like them up there.

But I shouldn’t have had to go through that whole experience just to feel like I belonged on that stage. And this kind of thing doesn’t just happen at conferences. It happens with clients too. Last year, we lost a big project because someone in leadership didn’t think we “sounded” like the kind of team that could present to executives. A few months later, they came back and said they made a mistake. We took on the project. The work was solid and spoke for itself, and the client was all in. It’s one of our favourite case studies. So why the extra layer of doubt?

I’m not sharing this to complain. I know how this industry works. But I also know I’m not the only one who’s felt this way – like you have to prove you belong over and over again.

Design talks a lot about inclusion, but it still expects people to perform confidence in one very specific way. Polished, loud, sales-y. But that’s not the only way to lead. You can be thoughtful, vulnerable, speak with an accent – and still be taken seriously. You can do the work your way and still be a strong voice in the room.

Maybe we don’t need more speakers, or design leaders, who sound like they came out of a pitch deck. Maybe we need more people who are just being themselves.

We’ve proven we can do the work. Now it’s time the industry catches up and starts paying attention to what actually counts.