We spent last week in London. It was freezing, the kind of cold that cold that gets into your bones. But the trip was worth it. I met a lot of studio founders I genuinely respect. People who’ve actually built things. People who’ve been through the ups and downs. We had deep conversations. Real talk.

One night, in our second pub, a founder said something I haven’t been able to shake. He said, “People don’t identify as creatives anymore. Being a designer is just a job title now.” He didn’t say it angrily. He just said it like… this is how it is now.

And the sad thing is: he’s right. I see it everywhere.

When I started, being a creative wasn’t a job. It was who you were. Calling myself a designer was something I had to grow into. My first award, seeing my work on TV, those weren’t portfolio moments. They were personal milestones. Moments where I thought, “Yeah, this is me.”

And I loved it. I worked every free minute. Nights in the studio weren’t some toxic hustle thing. I simply wanted to be there. It was who I was. Honestly, it still is.

That’s the big difference today. Creativity has become a role. A function. A task list. You do your deliverables, you hit the deadlines, you pass files to the next person, and slowly, the identity part slips away.

And here’s the bit nobody talks about:

The moment people started asking for work-life balance was the moment the work stopped feeling meaningful.

If creativity feels like a job, of course you want balance. Why would anyone stay up late for something that doesn’t feel like theirs? You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t.

But for me, it was never a job. And it still isn’t. I “work” every free minute because I want to. Because I have the urge to create, to build, to express something. It’s not external pressure. It’s internal drive.

What surprised me in London is how many top studio founders said the same thing. These are people with big clients, awards, reputations, and underneath all of that, their people struggle. Their teams feel disconnected from their own work. They think work-life balance will fix whatever is missing.

But it won’t. Once the meaning is gone, “balance” is all that’s left to talk about.

Because work-life balance doesn’t give you your identity back. It doesn’t reconnect you to your curiosity or your taste. It just makes the gap more obvious. The work stops feeling like you, and then the whole thing becomes a negotiation instead of a calling.

When creativity turns into work, you stop exploring. You start executing. You follow briefs instead of following your curiosity. And at some point, you look at what you made and think, “This doesn’t feel like me.”

This isn’t just happening to individuals. It’s cultural. Creativity moved from subcultures and late-night obsession into corporate structure and KPIs. People talk more about workflow than ideas. More about tools than taste. That shift disconnects people from themselves.

At Paradiso, the best people I meet every week all share one thing: creativity is still part of their identity. Yes, they put family and health first, of course they do. But once those things are taken care of, they go right back into the work. Not because they’re forced to. Because it’s who they are.

And this matters more now than ever. AI will replace execution. But it will never replace identity. Your view of the world, your taste, your way of thinking, that’s the only part that can’t be automated.

So when that founder said people don’t identify as creatives anymore, it made perfect sense. People aren’t overwhelmed because they’re working too much. They’re overwhelmed because their work doesn’t mean anything to them anymore.

When meaning disappears, “balance” is the only conversation left.

People don’t need more balance. They need their identity back.

They need to feel like being a creative matters.

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