I wanted to be an artist before I ever touched a timeline. As a teenager I posted my drawings online, trying to find an audience for that, not for editing. Then I tried blogging. I was too young to pull it off and it showed.

Editing found me sideways, through TikTok edits. I didn't want to show my face, so the edit itself had to carry everything. I didn't even own a computer yet, so the quality was rough, but I kept chasing that feeling of making something that actually hit — even if the only person it hit was me.

After school I put that aside and picked something that felt more serious: psychology. But I never really left editing behind, I just started watching everything through a different lens. Every film, every edit I came across, I was asking the same question: what did this make me feel? That question became the reason I kept editing at all. I wasn't trying to master software, I was trying to reverse-engineer feeling.

Eventually I circled back to the thing I wanted as a kid — putting my own voice out into the world — except this time through psychology instead of drawings. That's where Serious Tyotya, my channel, came from: unpacking toxic patterns people don't always notice in themselves, in relationships, family, work, everywhere. It's also where I taught myself to edit long-form, not just short cuts.

Right now I split my time between that and client work — mostly real estate content and videos for the investor space, where the job is making people care about something they'll never physically stand in front of. Different context, same instinct: make someone feel something before they scroll away.