About reqs.tech
What follows is a timeline of becoming; a slightly self-indulgent, occasionally poetic retrospective that attempts to explain why I build things the way I do, and why that might be exactly what you need, technically speaking.
Tech Level Zero
Early years are a blur (ha!). I remember looking at photos with my grandmother and hearing her gush about how lifelike and realistic the colors were. It wasn't until I was older and spent time looking through her albums that I realized how much the coloring was off in the 70s. (That reminds me of a Calvin & Hobbes strip...)
Family photo albums are time capsules of a mostly analog, wired world. Digital meant “boxy” styling like the flashing 12:00 on every VCR and the bleeding edge tech nerds displaying "BOOBS" on their calculators.
Tech Adjacent
In the early 2000s, I became “the person who fixes things.” Not because I had formal training — but because I paid attention. I watched the screen, clicked the things, remembered breadcrumbs and clues.
Friends brought me their broken printers and forgotten passwords. I said, “Let me try,” and more often than not, I got it working again.
I didn’t realize it yet, but I was learning to translate — between humans and machines, between frustration and solution.
Tech Emerging
This was when I started saying yes on purpose. To websites. To graphic design. To finding the right words which, when placed in the right order, became something more than the sum.
I began to recognize patterns. Interfaces started to feel familiar — even when the apps were new. I was building a map of the digital world in my head, one intuitive leap — or maybe a disparate lurch — at a time.
I wasn’t just using technology anymore. I was shaping how it was used. The translation I’d begun in support roles had evolved — I wasn’t just interpreting instructions anymore. I was learning to write them in ways that made sense to my often-chaotic mind.
Tech Competent
This was when I stopped second-guessing my presence in the room. When people turned to me, I had answers. Or I had better questions. Or I knew where to look to gain the vocabulary I needed to understand the conversation.
The tools I used became extensions of thought — not obstacles, but instruments. I began building frameworks not just for myself, but for others asking similar questions — circling the thought, but missing the connection between instinct and reality.
I was no longer translating for survival. I was translating for structure, for understanding, for sustainability.
The laughter that followed the exhilaration of recognition became full-bodied. Full-colored. And loud. Familiar. More than the volume I was inputting — there was life to it. An echo. A tangible timbre.
Tech Liaison
This isn’t the end of the arc. It’s the beginning of being seen as I truly am — not in fragments, not in flashes, but as a system coming online.
I’m not here to fit in. I’m here to make space; reflect the unseen, stabilize the edge, and light my own little path between chaos and clarity — without losing my own dynamic in the process.
I finally feel woven in rather than relegated to the periphery, not waiting to be invited because something in me knows something in me is already there.