There is no better way to put this politely, but I ghosted my home, desk and ergonomic chair.

I’m a UI/UX designer who lives out of a backpack and designs out of thin air, or more accurately, whatever Wi-Fi signal I can hijack from a nearby café. The last project I shipped was during a layover in Istanbul. The one before that? In a treehouse in Ubud, surrounded by monkeys and spotty cellular data.

When I tell people I’m a digital nomad, they probably picture palm trees and piña coladas. In reality, it’s Google Meet calls at 2 a.m., hunting down power outlets in airports, and whispering “Can you hear me now?” more times than I care to admit.

But it’s also magical. Here’s why.

Designing on the moves brings more clarity. I dont have time for 20-tab rabbit holes or the endless pixel pushes. I work fast, focused and with extreme priorities. Every project I start begins with the same question:” How can I make this more straightforward, more innovative, and intuitive, and not make people hate their devices today?”

And the world teaches me how.

In Nairobi, I watched people navigate apps without relying on text icons, which were everything. In rural Spain, a farmer used a government app with more grace than a Silicon Valley product manager. In Seoul, a user abandoned a checkout flow because the font felt aggressive. Seriously.

These little moments remind me: UI/UX isn’t just about visual trends or design systems. It’s about context, behaviour, and culture. It’s about designing for real people with real lives, not just for startup founders in Allbirds shoes.

Of course, it’s not all romantic. I’ve lost work because of time zone gaps. I’ve battled burnout alone in cities where I didn’t speak the language. I’ve taken client calls from bathroom stalls when there was no other quiet spot. Glamorous? No. Worth it? Every single time.

Because this way of life gives me something a design degree never did: a deep, lived understanding of human experience, the UX of train stations, foreign pharmacies, and food delivery apps in non-English languages all bleed into my work.

I don’t have a home, but I have purpose.

I don’t have a team lunch, but I have Slack emojis from five continents.

And I don’t know what day it is half the time, but my Figma files are always up to date.