Aloe became both a real product and a training ground, it was a place where I could iterate end-to-end and keep my engineering fluency current.
Aloe gave me something professional environments don't always provide, repeated full-cycle product practice. I could make a design decision, build it, use it, discover what was wrong, return to Figma, redesign it and then change the implementation again—without waiting months for another team or roadmap window. That created far more design-and-build repetitions than I would get from my day job or from treating a portfolio concept as a static prototype.
I had engineering experience earlier in my career, but modern web application development has changed enormously. I wanted to refresh my programming fluency instead of relying on knowledge that was years out of date. So I intentionally chose a stack similar to the technology my engineering peers were using at work and took on the full application programming myself.
That wasn't because I wanted to change careers. It was because I wanted to understand design decisions from the builder's side again. What often looks “simple” in Figma actually contains a completely different problem once someone has to make it persist, repeat, recover and scale.
And there is a larger personal reason I keep working on Aloe, I think of myself as a product person first. Design is the craft I built my career around, but the thing I care about most is creating something useful enough that people choose to keep using it.