10 years later- Design School: Worth It?

Reflections on design school, the creative process, and embracing uncertainty.

Dear 18-Year-Old Me,

You’ve been in and out of a strange period in your creative professional life, and then suddenly, a question came up out of nowhere—one that didn’t just strike a chord but played an entire symphony. It felt like the person who asked had sensed my internal creative existential crisis: "If you were to go back, would you do design school again?"

Reflecting on that question makes me realize how the twenties feel like the defining decade for so many of us. There’s an inherent pressure that comes with this time in life—the uncertainty, the milestones, the expectations. I’ve been thinking about this a lot over the past few months. It’s been 10 years since I made the somewhat unexpected decision to say yes to Parsons and move to New York. And now, fresh off a visit to NYC 10 years later, I went back to my notes app and feel ready to share my reflections on what this journey has meant to me.

Time is strange—it doesn’t work the way you think it does. You’ll come to see it less as a ticking clock and more as a mosaic of moments. Each project, city, and experience is another tile in the picture. It’s not about rushing through life; it’s about letting each moment become part of something bigger, something meaningful. Even the failures will find their place.

Right now, everything feels like a race—design school, deadlines, all the hustle. But here’s a secret: real growth comes when you learn to be both present and expansive. Ground yourself in the now, but don’t lose sight of the bigger picture. That’s where creativity lives—in the balance between urgency and curiosity. Keep asking "what if" and let that shape your spirit.

Remember how all you wanted was to get the ideas in your head out into the world? Well, you now have the tools, the confidence, and the skills to create. Not just for yourself, but for others—brands, friends, and family. You’ve learned how to take those abstract thoughts and daydreams and turn them into something real. That feeling of creative freedom is yours now.

Yes, you’re still stubborn (you knew that wouldn’t change), but it’s evolved. Freelancing will bring struggles and failures, but you’ll learn to let go faster. Not every idea needs to be so precious. Sometimes surrendering and moving forward is where the real magic happens. Trust me, you’ll get better at that.

Grades, job offers, and recognition might feel like markers of success, but they’re not the real measure. What really counts is growth and movement. The true achievement is knowing you're not standing in place—that with every project, you're refining your skills and becoming better than you were before. Yes, as cliché as it sounds, I’m happy with my decision to pursue design school. Every creative undertaking comes with uncertainty—whether in the outcome or the process—but that’s part of the beauty of this journey.

One night, during a midterm studio session, a professor will tell you something that stays with you: "It’s okay to doubt the work, but never doubt yourself." This will carry you through creative slumps and breakthroughs. Keep questioning the work—push it, refine it—but don’t let that doubt seep into your self-worth. You’ll get through every challenge with that in mind.

You might throw together a collage in five minutes that will spark the idea that carries you through an entire semester’s worth of work. It deserved its own XL board for the presentation. The point is, every piece has value. You’ll also learn that not all “exposure” is worth your time. Be wary of people who use exposure as a form of payment. There’s a difference between meaningful creative exchanges and situations that just feel off. Trust your instincts—they’ll tell you when something has that scam-y vibe.

Lady Gaga, Zaha Hadid, Virgil Abloh—they’re still with you. Their avant-garde visions have shaped your creative DNA, and they always will. But over the years, new inspirations will layer on top. Tech, AI, and evolving design tools will open new dimensions to your creativity. Staying on the pulse of what's next is still something you’ll crave, and it will keep your work sharp.

Back then, the title "creative director" at a designer house felt like the ultimate goal. It was like making managing director or CEO, the highest honor for a creative. But the meaning of that title has changed. Social media culture and people like Virgil Abloh have redefined it. Every creative is a multi-hyphenate now—including you. You're not just a designer, you're a concept developer, a strategist, an architect of ideas. Or "muhandiseh," as you often say when you can’t quite explain the multihyphenate skillset in Arabic. And no, you still don’t know what to call yourself exactly, but that’s okay. The labels matter less than the work.

At 18, your sense of self and identity was still forming, and it will continue to evolve. You’ll grapple with a concept that first came up in art class and still lingers today: that because you are Palestinian, Jordanian, and a woman, your work must reflect themes of struggle, resilience, and strength. While those themes often accompany your identity boxes, they aren’t what drives your creativity. Your North Star has always been about seeking beauty, curiosity, and awe. There’s depth and sincerity in that pursuit, and it’s what guides your work, no matter how others may try to define it.

*the messy desk your prof was referring to 

So, to you and to all the other 18-year-olds in design school, remember this: trust your journey, even when it feels messy. "A messy desk is a sign of an active process and mind." You’re creating more than just work—you’re creating yourself.

With love,

Your 10 years older self.

p.s

What Your 28-Year-Old Self Needs Right Now

And to my 28-year-old self—what you need right now is more of that dramatic, unapologetic spirit you had at 18. Yes, even the naivety. That drama might be softened or even villainized now, but it gave you an unfiltered, raw look at the world—your take, without holding back. After uni, weird corporate life, the “grindset'“, and hopping from town to town with all the disillusionment that came with it, your 28-year-old self wants 18-year-old you to shake her and say: creatively speaking, come on. You’ve got these weird design superpowers now. You never cared about cringe, or what people thought, or whatever society decided was the thing to care about. Why start now? Go all out.