If you’re a hiring manager or simply skeptical about switching careers, you might look at me and say, “You’re a Fresher.”

But my background was preparing me for UX All Along.

I am often introduced as a fresher in UX.

Technically, yes — I am early in my formal UX journey.

But what many people don’t see is the foundation that shaped how I think, analyze, and build.

My background in Project Management and my postgraduate degree in English were not detours. They laid the groundwork for my approach to UX.

Because managing projects teaches you one thing very quickly:

You cannot afford to ignore any single process.

When you’re responsible for delivery, you need visibility across research, strategy, execution, testing, communication, and iteration. You don’t get to specialize in one piece and overlook the rest. You develop systems thinking. This holistic view doesn’t just ensure no process is missed — it means users feel the difference.

For instance, by anticipating how a change in research can impact execution or testing, you prevent confusion and frustration for the end user. Seamless updates, fewer hurdles, and intuitive flows become possible because every detail is connected with the bigger user journey.

I saw this in action while managing a health awareness website redesign. In the middle of implementation, a last-minute study showed users misunderstood a key navigation label. If I had focused narrowly on design or on testing alone, this would have slipped through. Instead, by keeping research and testing closely connected, I was able to update the label and run another quick usability check. The results were immediate: task completion rates on the affected page jumped from 62 percent to 89 percent, and time-on-task for the primary action dropped by nearly 30 seconds. Engagement and clarity improved overnight, avoiding what could have been a silent system breakdown. That was systems thinking at work, catching small gaps before they ripple out.

And that systems thinking is UX.

The same happened while working with one of our magazine websites. I came across something subtle — but concerning.

It wasn’t a major visual flaw. It wasn’t a broken page.

It was a small functional glitch in the navigation flow.

At first glance, it seemed minor — a misdirected internal link and an inconsistent category routing issue. But when I walked through the experience from a user’s perspective, I noticed something important:

The glitch disrupted the reading journey.

Users who intended to explore related content were being redirected in ways that broke continuity. In editorial ecosystems, continuity is everything. When that flow breaks, engagement quietly drops.

Instead of dismissing it as a “small technical issue,” I raised it with the team and requested a more thorough review.

We reviewed:

• Navigation pathways
• Internal linking logic
• Category mapping
• Click behavior patterns

Once corrected, the difference was noticeable.

Session depth improved. Users explored more related articles. Engagement metrics showed healthier interaction patterns.

Nothing dramatic changed on the surface.

But the experience became seamless.

What That Taught Me About UX

That moment reinforced something critical:

UX is not always about redesigning screens.

Sometimes, it’s about noticing what others overlook.

It’s about understanding that a tiny friction point can ripple across an entire system.

The Moment It Truly Hit Me

It became clear while I was designing an app for senior citizens — a platform where they could:

• Book companions
• Access healthcare services
• Track their health in one place.

I didn’t want to create “just another app.”

I wanted a platform that respected their emotional needs, cognitive patterns, and trust barriers. During my interviews, one participant told me quietly, “Sometimes I worry I might press the wrong button and no one will be there to help.” Another shared, “If it looks too complicated, I just give up.” Hearing these concerns firsthand made it clear that building trust was not optional — it was the foundation. Their words stayed with me at every stage of the design.

Before I designed a single screen, I paused.

And instead of thinking like a designer, I became a researcher.

I studied:

• How seniors make decisions
• What makes them hesitate
• How trust is visually communicated
• What reduces cognitive overload
• How accessibility changes perception

While people give AI prompts like “Assume the role of a UX designer,” I gave myself a different prompt:

Become the best designer for this user.

Wearing Multiple Hats — Intentionally

While working on this project, I realized something important:

UX is not a single role.

It is the intersection of many.

• Before talking about all the hats I wore, I want to share one of the most surprising insights that came from my research with seniors: many users paused not because a task was hard, but because the interface felt unfamiliar and made them worry about making mistakes. For example, some participants hesitated to press ‘Book Now’ because they feared committing too quickly and wanted to see detailed profiles or ratings before deciding. This simple hesitation opened up everything about how I approached the project.
• I mapped each of my roles directly to how I handled this insight:
• I was a UX Researcher: I observed behaviors like hesitation before any screens were created and made sure we understood the reasons behind it.
• I was a Writer: I chose words for labels and actions that felt reassuring, addressing worries of making a wrong move and communicating safety.
• I was a Strategist: I shaped the app’s flow so users could explore profiles, reviews, and information at their own pace, rather than feeling rushed.
• I was a Tester: I validated these changes with actual users, checking if decision confidence improved and noting where users still hesitated.
• I was a Systems Thinker: I brought together healthcare, companionship, and progress tracking into a single, logical journey, so moving from one task to another felt smooth, not overwhelming.

My English background helped me refine tone and clarity. My project management experience helped me think holistically.

And UX became the space where everything converged.

The Booking Screen Experiment

Recently, I designed two versions of a booking screen for companions.

Visually, both were strong.

One emphasized a large “Book Now” CTA — fast, action-oriented, efficient.

The other allowed more exploration — profile visibility, ratings clarity, and emotional cues before commitment.

If I had trusted my design instincts alone, I might have chosen based on aesthetics.

But I didn’t want the better-looking one.

I wanted the more accessible one.

So I conducted a usability study.

I observed hesitation. I studied decision confidence. I analyzed where users paused. I evaluated emotional readiness before booking.

And here’s what I learned:

In care-based platforms, users are not optimizing for speed. They are looking for reassurance at each step — so their experience must align with the usability principle of ‘match between system and the real world.’ By presenting information in ways that reflect users’ real concerns and familiar language, the system feels more trustworthy and approachable. This insight not only shapes the design but clarifies why simply adding speed is not enough; the interface must visibly signal safety and credibility to meet user needs.

They are optimizing for safety, reassurance, and credibility.

The exploration-first design created more psychological comfort before action.

And that insight mattered more than visual polish.

Why “Fresher” Doesn’t Tell the Whole Story

Experience is not only measured in years of one title.

• Experience is not something you tally only by years on a business card. Sometimes, ten hours spent observing real users, carefully testing your own designs, or challenging what you thought you knew, can be more transformative than ten years of repeating the same routine. Depth of thinking, your willingness to question assumptions, and the drive to integrate different disciplines — these are the yardsticks that truly define growth.

UX is not new to me.

It is the natural outcome of everything I have been building toward: structured thinking, clear communication, process awareness, and empathy-driven design.

What’s Next

This article shares reflections specifically from my booking screen usability study. But one big question remains: Will seniors actually trust an AI-guided companion picker when it matters most? I’ll dig into that — and what surprised me in the process — in the full case study coming soon.

The full case study and detailed research process behind the entire app will be published soon, including:

• Research methodology
• Behavioral decision flow analysis
• Heuristic evaluation
• Insight synthesis
• Design iterations
• Final recommendations

Because good UX isn’t about saying, “I designed this.”

It’s about saying, “I tested this, questioned this, and improved this.”

And that mindset is not entry-level.