Just in one year I heard a doctor use Multiple sclerosis and my name in the same sentence. My tooth fell out and I almost got no work. I felt lonely, broke, and devastated. What was about to come was one of the worst years of my life.

As soon as 2025 started, I couldn't get new leads. Or get someone on a call just to figure out what they were up to. I was writing tons of emails, pinging people on LinkedIn — the ones I used to work with, but also total strangers. All that effort just to land some small project every few months. Enough to survive. Where did all my happy clients go? What happened to word of mouth? Did we play Telephone?

One client didn't pay me and disappeared. Another was supposed to pay — enough to live on for a couple of months — but they got into financial trouble themselves, so they couldn't.

Out of nowhere, a lifeline appeared. A digital insurance startup from NYC listed on Toptal that they were looking for a UX designer. The interview went great. Cool guys, interesting project. I thought I was a great fit and wanted to yell during the call — guys, it's me! No need to look for someone else, I'm the one you're looking for.

A few days later, an email slid into my inbox: Project was cancelled.

Oh, fuck. Don't panic. Or do panic. It doesn't matter anymore. I was out of options. I contacted everyone I know, had a few interviews, but nothing came of it. I felt like I'd been a dishwasher for 20 years, not a freaking outstanding UX designer (what's wrong with flexing a little?). I was thinking — well, at least I'm in good shape. I can still do food delivery for Wolt.

But life is like unpacking a mystery box, and when you think it can't get any worse, it jumps in and goes — are you sure?

While eating I felt pain in my mouth. After visiting the dentist it turned out my front bone was rotting. WTF? It was urgent, so the doctor took part of my front teeth out, and for the next half of the year I walked around like that. I thought — with this thug look I won't find a girlfriend any time soon. Is there anything worse than being broke and alone?

And life goes — yes, of course, let me show you.

After a long run in 35-degree heat, my left foot gave out. I tried to lift it and straighten it up, but I couldn't control it. I was probably pushing too hard, I thought. So I put running on hold for a few weeks to recover. When I started again, the same thing happened. And this time it was in the middle of a run.

I went to see a sports doctor. He took a look at me and asked a few questions. Then he sat next to me and with a serious face started talking. Words were coming out of his mouth, but I didn't quite catch them. I just felt the room shrinking and getting darker. While I was trying to catch my breath, I heard him mention multiple sclerosis. Strange — why was he putting me and that disease in the same sentence? Then I understood. He was telling me there was a high chance this was the first signal of the illness. So he sent me urgently for a scan.

I left his office and slowly walked toward my 1200cc motorcycle. I looked at it and thought — if what the doctor said turns out to be true, the only two-wheeler I'll be sitting on will be a wheelchair.

Funny. Not.

If I end up in a wheelchair, someone will need to look after me. But I don't have anyone. Except three kids I'm supporting.

The next few weeks I spent going from one doctor to another. Every visit cost money I didn't have. I was already knee-deep in it. And I just sank a little deeper.

I cracked. I was scared. I thought — dear God, all this crap I went through…and now this? What will happen to me? What's the point of all my efforts? Was this work all for nothing?

Those few questions opened a hole — and soon I was flooded with a huge pile of what-ifs. They'd probably been hanging there for years, waiting for someone to answer them. But that someone was always in a rush, always caught up in the day-to-day struggle.

Now there were no more excuses. I had to sit down and talk to myself. I thought about my life's calling. How come it means so much to me, but it's so hard to make it work. I kept digging.

Why am I doing this design thing after all? If it's just because of money — there are so many other ways to earn it.

Well, I love making things that look good and work smooth. Cool, but what makes it so fascinating? It's just colors and shapes.

I feel purposeful when my work changes how people see things.

Okay, but then why am I so bothered about not having work right now? I'm obviously not starving — so what's the real problem?

Because I have solid knowledge and it's not doing any good. It's just rotting, same as my tooth bone.

There we go.

If it's not just about the money, then I can find other ways to help people. I can share what I know. And I can do it for free. So I did.

I opened a new document and stared at it for a while. I wasn't sure what to write about, so I just started writing about what I was going through. Noting down the problems I was facing and making assumptions on how to solve them. What I did. What went well and what needed to change. And what I learned.

Soon, I got hooked. My thoughts were getting sharper and more focused. I felt more confident. I felt like I was opening rarely used drawers in my mind and a bunch of stuff started falling out of forgotten folders.

I called it a business diary.

When some wise words came out I'd think — wow, I had no idea I knew this. The only problem was I didn't know how to feel about it — proud or even more miserable? How do I know all this and still be jobless? On the other hand, a lot of it was rough. I hadn't written this much since high school. I struggled to organize my thoughts and improve my writing. I thought how good it would be to get some guidance. But I wasn't even sure where to start looking for answers.

I was on my way home from one of the doctor visits, head in the clouds. Scrolling Instagram on autopilot, calculating how many more weeks I could make it on the money I had, when an ad for MasterClass showed up and interrupted the math. Half price for a full year. A great deal — I'd always wanted it. I could really use it, but I definitely couldn't afford it.

On the other hand, the pile of problems I was facing was massive. And what the previous months had taught me was that there are no guarantees in life and I might die tomorrow. I'm definitely not the type of person who quits without giving everything.

So the only thing I could do was tap the big red button “Get MasterClass” and probably cut out a week's worth of food.

There were great people telling great stories — writers, entrepreneurs, actors. I absorbed every sentence. And got so inspired that I started searching for answers in other places too.

I grabbed Russell Brunson's book Expert Secrets. I found this guy Blake La Grange who ran his own Skool community. He'd sold his multimillion dollar info business and was posting 80 episodes online for free. What a gem.

I made a list of people who inspire me — people who are honest and thoughtful about their work, whose goal isn't only making money but finding their own path and becoming fulfilled. I checked what they were posting a few times a week and tried to learn from them. I treated it like an emergency. I needed answers.

Pretty soon I was writing and posting more than ever. Sometimes I got traction, other times a post landed with one like or zero. I didn't let that affect me. I just kept going.

I used everything I was going through as fuel. I tried to get inside the heads of the people I wanted to help — to understand what they were struggling with, how they saw the world.

Soon, messages started sliding into my inbox one after another:

"I started doing what you've been proposing, and I got way clearer on my pricing and what type of clients I want to serve." "That deeply resonated with what I'm currently going through." "That was great, thank you so much."

And on and on.

I offered 1:1 calls to my community, and almost all slots filled up within days. Some were designers just starting out, others already had plenty of experience. A few were solopreneurs who needed clarity on positioning or marketing. Talking to people, I realized it's mostly just patterns with different names and companies attached. The situations are almost always the same. So for most things, I had an answer right away.

I had a great time and enjoyed every call. And those people were grateful for the experience I shared. It felt good. And now I had even more topics I wanted to cover.

After many tests I got the best news possible — multiple sclerosis had skipped me. And my gums recovered. One by one, things started getting better.

After years of procrastination, I finally recorded my first UX design course for people breaking into the industry. I started a global community for UX designers (here's the link) where I share everything I know with the ones who desperately want to get better — the same way I do. Teaching them how to reach their potential, and hoping that by doing it I expand my own as well.

Looking back at all that now, I realize anything less wouldn't have been enough to move me forward the way it did. It was necessary to figure out what I had and what to do with it.

So for all the solopreneurs and freelancers waiting for someone else to push them to start the projects they always wanted to work on — don't wait for life to give you a push. Because it won't be subtle. And once you start, the problems you run into will feel bigger than anything you've faced before. They probably are. And you can probably solve them anyway.