I didn't choose tech. Tech chose me

My career was never supposed to look like this. I studied music business and marketing and planned to produce concerts, a world driven by creativity. Then life intervened, as it tends to do (and I needed to pay my rent).

These days I live in Stockholm, having moved from Los Angeles in 2019, with a quirky French bulldog who has no interest in my career trajectory. It is a long way from where I started.

I worked all kinds of jobs in all kinds of industries. What stayed consistent was that I was good at staying calm when things got hard and I could get people to deliver under pressure. That skill turned out to be exactly what the tech world needed.

My entry point into tech wasn't strategic, it was a lunch. A former colleague had moved to a video game company and told me they were hiring, but I was skeptical. I knew nothing about tech and I didn't consider myself a gamer. But she trusted me enough to recommend me and I trusted her enough to apply. I interviewed for one role and didn't get it; I interviewed for a second and did.

What made me stay wasn't the technology, it was the people. Leadership was willing to take a chance on someone with no formal training. Engineers were willing to teach me, as long as I didn't waste their time. I didn't. Over time I learned the work inside and out. I couldn't do it myself at the keyboard, so I became the person who represented them. They trusted me to speak for them in meetings and they trusted the decisions I was making, even when they didn't fully understand them at the time.

That trust was built, not given. That is one of the most important things I'd want other women in tech to understand. You don't need to arrive with all the answers. You need to show up consistently, follow through, and make it clear that you are there to make the work better, not to take credit for it.

The voice that's missing

When I describe what I actually do, I usually say I herd cats, organize chaos and solve puzzles. The more precise answer is that I partner with teams and leadership to figure out the best ways to work so things actually get done, without burning people out.

The role I often end up playing is the voice that's missing from the room. If a conversation is too high-level, I pull it into the practical. If the team is too deep in pessimism, I bring in some grounded optimism. If the room is running on optimism alone, I bring in reality. If the discussion is ignoring the actual cost to the engineers, I make sure their perspective is heard. It sounds simple, but it rarely is.

I get bored easily. Honestly, it is one of my most useful professional traits. Every time I hit a ceiling in one domain, I pivoted to another. New team, new problem and new things to learn. That is what kept me in tech because you can keep moving. There is always something new to understand and someone who needs a person to bridge the gap between what the engineers are building and what the rest of the business needs.

Why a startup and why now

I spent most of my tech career at scale-ups. Good companies, good work. But I had a hunch that a startup environment would suit me better, and I was right. At Encube, what I do matters immediately. There is no layer of bureaucracy between a good idea and trying it out. Success and failure are both more tangible.

What convinced me to join was the CEO's vision for the product. I believe in it completely. I wanted to be part of building it from the ground up and I wanted the direct stake in that outcome you just don't get at a larger organization.

Joining a European deep tech startup felt like a natural move. The problems Encube is solving are global, but the engineering culture, the rigor and the willingness to go deep on hard problems, is a good match for me.

Why hardware and why now

When I joined Encube, I came from a world where software is built fast. Ship it, iterate and fix it in the next release. The stakes are relatively low and the feedback loop is short. Hardware is a completely different reality.

We build software for hardware engineers that connects design decisions to manufacturing costs and feasibility data earlier in the development process. The core problem in hardware development is that by the time a hardware product reaches design freeze, up to 80% of its total costs are already locked in. Most of the decisions that determine whether something will be expensive or even possible to manufacture have already been made, often without full visibility into the consequences. Businesses are left with an uncomfortable choice to accept lower margins or redo the designs and delay the launch.

Encube brings that visibility into the design phase, so teams can see the impact of their choices while there is still time to act.

What struck me was how clearly the problem was understood by the people living it, yet how little had changed. Hardware teams know the process is painful, but they have become so used to it that they don't even reflect on it anymore. It is frustrating, but it's also an opportunity because the tools to fix it finally exist.

The timing matters. Europe is trying to bring production back home, but the manufacturing know-how is retiring and we haven't invested enough in the next generation to fill that gap. Add tightening sustainability regulations on top and an already pressured industry is under more strain than ever. The tools hardware teams rely on were built for a world that has moved on. That is the problem Encube is here to solve.

On being a woman in this industry

Earlier in my career, I had some bad experiences being a woman in tech. I won't dress that up. There were rooms where I had to work twice as hard to be heard half as much. There were moments where my competence was questioned in ways that had nothing to do with my work.

What got me through was building genuine confidence in my own ability, having someone at my back who would push me and, I'll be honest, being fueled by proving people wrong.

The advice I give to women is to be comfortable with who you are and project that confidence. Quiet competence will get you overlooked. You have to own your growth and keep moving forward regardless of your environment. I tell junior folks directly that you must be able to grow despite your environment, not because it supports you. Waiting for the perfect conditions is just a way of waiting forever.

No one handed me this career. I wandered into it, worked hard, took chances and found people worth staying for. Which, in many ways, is just a longer way of saying that careers in tech are rarely linear.

They're creative, unconventional and often built from moments that don't look significant at the time. The path can sometimes feel undefined, and the honest answer is to embrace it. You don't always see a clear blueprint and you don't always walk into rooms where trust is given freely. That's where my opening idea comes back: trust is built, not given. Not through having all the answers, but through consistency, follow-through and a quiet confidence in the value you bring.

If you are considering tech and wondering whether you belong here, you do. Just don't expect it to feel obvious right away. You might have to trust that the unconventional path you're on is still taking you exactly where you need to go.