June 25, 2025
before it means something
I used to think I was just a fast thinker. I picked things up easily, finished tests early, moved through projects efficiently. But lately I've been wondering if what I thought was fluency was actually compression.
At my summer internship, I learned low-code tools like Power Apps that are meant to make building accessible and streamlined. They did, but they also made it harder to think outside the structures they provided. The minute I tried to implement something off-pattern like a layout the editor didn't like or a new behavior, the tool pushed back. Not with strict errors, but nagging friction, like vague documentation, 5-layer workarounds, and messy visuals.
It didn't feel like a big deal. But by the sixth week, I noticed how quickly I'd adapted, choosing what was buildable over what actually made sense. I didn't agree with the constraints, but didn't have time to hold the deeper logic. So I compressed to move on.
I'd actually been doing this for long before the internship — in schoolwork, projects, even in personal journaling. Every time the pace picked up, I'd do what I was used to and praised for: get to something that made sense fast. But producing something legible isn't the same as understanding.
In senior year of high school, I realized that I hadn't internalized much of the subjects I thought I cared about. Committing to a STEM major in college felt like a way to force more depth. Now, two years into a highly technical program, I'm realizing that the issue was not the field or my motivation, but rather the limited space I gave my thinking.
When I slow down, my process looks completely different. I don't start with the answer. I observe everything and trace patterns. I get stuck on tiny structure mismatches. I try to find what doesn't sit right. But most environments and tools aren't built for that kind of rhythm. You're expected to shape your idea enough to share. And once it becomes legible, the exploration usually stops.
I don't mind constraints; I like working with real limits. And without emphasis on pacing and legibility, collaboration and progress would be much more difficult.But a lot of what I thought were constraints were actually just reactions to urgency. And I’ve let a lot of ideas go prematurely because they took too long to explain.
Lately, I've been wondering what it would mean to build something where the structure grows from how the idea was understood and unfolded.
I'm not sure what that looks like, but I am getting better at catching the moments when I flatten something too soon. And when possible, I stay with it for a little longer.