I don’t have a story about the first time I knew I wanted to be a designer.

I remember drawing a lot. Not very well, but a lot. I’d fill out the margins of my school notebooks with sinewy aliens, mechanical constructs from another world, unhistoric architecture, anything I could do to keep from plugging into the lesson at hand. I remember drawing type all over a folder when I was younger; the names of my favorite bands—the details of which, I’ll spare you (or, more likely, myself).

And while there's nothing all that remarkable (or maybe even mentionable) about my story, I know that somewhere in that narrative, I fell head over heels with the idea of working on things together.

This isn’t the part of the story where I bore you with my input in the ever-waging “flat” design debate.

I’m probably about as sick of that conversation as you are.

In fact, with the unmistakable decline in gradients and drop shadows, the infectious popularity of stroked buttons, and the Great Texture Purge of 2013, it seems like that’s a battle no longer worth fighting. Not that I would if I could.

For me, this one’s a bit more personal.

So you’ve found something people like? Something that cashes in on the “Likes”, the “Ooh”s & “Ah”s. And for that moment, you bask in the adoration of an audience hungry for more. Perhaps, it’s in these instances that we’re fed, refueled, and given the stamina to soldier on. Where the tiresome tedium of creation feels somewhat worth the struggle. But while immediately satisfying, the pubic’s overwhelmingly positive response to new work can oftentimes serve as a brutish course correction—hurdling you towards more of the like to relive the glory of self-satisfaction.

Whatever it is you think you know at this point in your life, prepare to be challenged, undermined, beaten down, bored, unfulfilled, marginally erroneous, and just flat out wrong. This indisputable fact of life isn't merely one facet of the human experience, there will be moments—maybe even seasons—when it seems more the fact of your own life; a constant battering of circumstance, chance and poor decision making.

Plenty of people will tell you that if you do good work, the world will eventually take notice. That if you make something that grabs enough people where it really matters, you'll set the world on fire and paste your name in the clouds. "Do good work, get recognition" seems to be a battle cry to call you up from the muck and charge you with an emblazoned call to create; and create well. But that very word "good" is so entirely subjective that it doesn't even begin to cover the far reaching conditions by which "recognition" (another arguable wording choice) is, in turn, ascended to.

In the ever-waging war of page views, unique visits, and follower counts, it can seem like the only way to stand out and drive traffic in waves is to kick up a dust cloud of controversy. When there are enough "design" and "inspiration" blogs to take a real chunk out of mainstream media, making a name for yourself is hard. But that doesn't justify articles like "The 10 Hottest Female Designers". Especially not in an industry that's already had its share of problems working with and attracting women to be a part of the creative community.

Peruse any designer news aggregate and sprinkled throughout the various articles on typography, new CSS tricks, peppered somewhere between working with the grid and another unsolicited iOS7 redesign, you're likely to find it: the post about why Dribbble is ineffective as a platform—at best, a glorified chest-beating and, at worst, a most gruesome indulgence of designer hubris and visual masturbation.

Chances are, you didn't have to learn how to be hard on yourself. As your own greatest critic, only you know what those moments when you're left with only your own thoughts in solitude are like.

I've been working on a post about how I do color for some time now. Trying to figure out the best way to help others build color palettes that are unique and cohesive, as I'm asked about it often. But putting the post together hasn't been the easiest thing to do, mostly due to the large disparity of the workflow/narrative experience.