After the plunge into Web3, I realized my true skill wasn’t just launching—it was engineering clarity out of chaos. I started seeing every company as a system to be tuned, every business as a puzzle of incentives, flows, and meaning.

So I leaned in. I built frameworks. I built teams. I became the person who could see the whole board. And somewhere along the way, I stopped needing someone else’s mission—I was finally shaping my own.

As AI exploded into the mainstream, I was already deep in it—prompt engineering, deploying LLMs, building systems to automate what once felt sacred: insight, expression, creativity. I helped companies scale faster, think smarter, move leaner.

But somewhere in that acceleration, I got blurry. If machines could do what I do, what was left of me? I wasn’t afraid of being replaced—I was afraid of being irrelevant. I needed to re-center, not as an innovator, but as a human. A thinker. A father. A maker of meaning.

Out of the burnout came clarity. I didn’t want to win the game—I wanted to change it. So I built Grassfed Social: the first platform that doesn’t just track metrics, but helps creators reconnect with what makes their work theirs.

It’s part analytics tool, part mirror. For the creator who wants to grow and stay original. For the part of me that still believes the internet can be human. I’m building slowly, soulfully, with the same care I now bring to fatherhood. Not everything should scale fast. Some things should grow deep.