What I’d Tell My Younger Self If I Were Pursuing Architecture

If I could sit across from my younger self, the one just starting architecture school, full of ambition and uncertainty, I wouldn’t overwhelm her with advice or bullet points or warnings disguised as wisdom.

I wouldn’t tell her to work harder, she was already doing that. I wouldn’t tell her to be tougher, more resilient, or more disciplined. She already believed that success required pushing past every limit. Instead, I’d tell her the things I had to learn slowly through exhaustion, self-doubt, and years of recalibrating expectations. The things no syllabus covered. The things that only become clear once you’ve lived inside the profession long enough to see it honestly. The things I wish someone had said out loud when everything felt urgent and unclear at the same time.

You Don’t Have to Know Exactly Where This Leads

When you’re just starting out, it feels like every decision is permanent. Every studio project feels like a referendum on your talent, every internship feels like it’s quietly locking you into a future, and every critique feels heavier than it should, because you believe it’s shaping who you’ll become. But architecture careers are rarely linear, and that’s not a flaw in the system. It’s a reflection of how layered and human this profession actually is. You’re allowed to evolve, change your mind, and outgrow the version of success you imagined at 18 or 22.

Some of the most fulfilled architects I know didn’t end up where they thought they would, they ended up somewhere better, because they stayed open minded. The goal isn’t to have the entire path mapped out, but to stay curious long enough to recognize opportunity when it shows up, even when it doesn’t look like what you expected.

Talent Will Get You in the Door, Visibility Will Move You Forward

I wish I had understood earlier that good work doesn’t always speak for itself.

Architecture rewards excellence, but it also rewards presence, communication, and clarity. How you talk about your work matters, how you frame your ideas matters, and how consistently you show up (online, in rooms, in conversations) matters more than school prepares you for. There are incredibly talented people who remain overlooked simply because no one ever taught them how to articulate their value.

Advocating for yourself isn’t arrogance, sharing your work isn’t self-promotion, and building a personal brand doesn’t diminish the profession, it strengthens your position within it. You can be thoughtful, generous, and visible at the same time. Those qualities don’t cancel each other out.

Burnout Isn’t a Badge of Honor

The architecture industry does not have to be burnout-forward.

No one tells you how easy it is to tie your worth to endurance. Late nights can start to feel like proof of commitment, exhaustion becomes normalized, and rest slowly turns into something you feel you have to earn. Architecture has a long history of quietly rewarding suffering, but that doesn’t mean suffering is the point. Burnout doesn’t make you a better designer, it just makes everything harder than it needs to be for you and for the people around you.

Learning when to pause, ask for help, or reset expectations is a skill. One that allows you to stay in this profession long enough to do work you’re proud of, work that has impact, and that you can sustain. Longevity is a form of success we don’t talk about enough, but it should be.

You’re Not Behind, Even When It Feels Like You Are

There will always be someone ahead of you.

Someone with more confidence, a cleaner portfolio, a clearer plan, or a faster timeline to licensure. Comparison sneaks in quietly, especially in a profession that measures progress through visible milestones; but your timeline doesn’t invalidate your ability. Progress in architecture is cumulative and often invisible until suddenly it isn’t. The skills you’re building, the instincts you’re sharpening, the perspective you’re developing all compound over time.

Even when it feels slow, stagnant, and especially when no one else can see it yet, trust that what you’re building is adding up.

Licensure Is Important, but It’s Not Your Entire Identity

I wish I had known earlier that licensure is a chapter, not the whole story.

It matters, it’s meaningful, and it represents real sacrifice and real accomplishment; but it is not the only measure of your intelligence, your capability, or your contribution to this profession.

You are allowed to care deeply about licensure and about your life.
You are allowed to pursue it at your own pace.
And you are allowed to define success beyond a single credential.

You don’t disappear if it takes longer than planned, and you don’t lose your legitimacy because the path isn’t perfectly timed.

Find People Who Tell You the Truth, not Just What You Want to Hear

Mentorship is about finding people who are honest about tradeoffs and transparent about what the path actually demands and willing to talk about what didn’t go as planned.

Seek out voices that don’t romanticize the struggle but don’t minimize it either. Those are the people who will help you grow without asking you to shrink yourself in the process.

You Belong Here, Even on the Days You Doubt It

There will be times when you question everything. If I could tell my younger self one last thing, it would be this: You don’t need to become someone else to succeed in architecture, you just need to learn how to build a career that fits who you already are. And that’s a design process in itself.

Looking for more advice on thriving in architecture school without losing yourself in the process? Explore Embarc for real talk, resources, and guidance built for the next generation of architects and designers.