It was twenty years ago. I was sitting in a café with a friend, talking about the relationship with my then partner. I was explaining everything from my point of view, as we usually do, when she stopped me and asked a simple question. One of those questions you do not expect, yet they land exactly where they should
“Have you ever worn her shoes? Have you ever tried to live her life for a while?”
I remember saying “No” without thinking twice. She just replied, “Well, you should try.”
Nothing more. Nothing less.
And it made perfect sense. I am a natural extrovert, she is a natural introvert. I come from a close and grounded family, she carries the weight of a difficult one. I believe first and question later, she questions everything, including belief. Our worlds were different, yet I had only looked at mine.
So when I got home, I took a blank sheet of paper, a pen, and tried to imagine the world through someone else’s eyes. I spent almost two hours sketching thoughts, reconstructing situations, questioning my own reactions. Something shifted. The relationship ended later on, which was sad, but there was clarity in the process. I had no idea that this single moment would define the next twenty years of my life.
I repeated this exercise countless times. Family members, friends, new partners. I refined it slowly, almost obsessively. And like everything I refine obsessively, it is still a work in progress.
Looking back, I can see the thread. Mediations. Keynotes. Mentoring sessions. Legal design workshops. Every single attempt to be a better human being. Everything grew from that tiny seed: the awareness that my perspective is only one among many, and often not the most accurate one.
The more I walk this path, the more I realise how little we truly know other people. Most individuals do not fully know themselves. So how could we? Understanding someone is already complex. And yes, people may surprise you, sometimes in ways you would never hope for.
What I find worse, though, is how quickly we convince ourselves that we understand others. We fill gaps with assumptions, shortcuts, and comforting narratives. We think we are reading people, when in reality we are only reading our own reflection.
Maybe this is why I get goosebumps (the wrong kind of goosebumps…) every time I see a law firm promising “tailor-made services”. Tailor-made without ever meeting the client, without testing anything, without walking even a single metre in their shoes. No surveys. No feedback sessions. No listening dinners. No attention to neurodivergent users. No reflection on how their messages are perceived. A one-size-fits-all approach sold as bespoke. Sure. This may sound excessive, but in many cases (luckily, not all of them) it isn’t that far from reality.
Design thinking teaches us that assumptions without testing have no value. But assuming we already know someone is even worse. There is something more dangerous than thinking we know. It is believing we know. Because believing we know closes doors before the conversation even begins.
Sometimes I wish we all cultivated a bit more humility. A bit more benefit of the doubt. Lives are fragile. Dynamics can escalate quickly. And once you cross a line, going back is not easy. A single misunderstanding can reshape an entire trajectory, just like a single moment, twenty years ago, quietly reshaped mine.
