Early Childhood
I grew up in the suburbs of Athens, in an apartment above my grandfather’s furniture factory. The factory was the result of a long personal story. My grandfather, an orphan, had patented a sofa-bed design and slowly built a business around it.
When my mother was working, my grandmother looked after me. I spent hours in the factory, sitting on workbenches, handling threads and pieces of wood, watching how things were assembled and fixed. I remember the smell of sawdust and the constant noise of machines. I did not think of it as learning at the time, but it shaped how I understood work, patience, and responsibility.
Discovering Technology
I was drawn early to problems that needed solving. Alongside music and drawing, I spent time building with LEGO and similar toys, usually taking things apart to see how they worked. I liked the feeling of understanding something slightly better each time.
In my first year of junior high, my parents bought me a computer. I did not use it much for games. What interested me was the sense of control and clarity it offered. I began writing small programs in Quick Basic, simple calculators and text-based games, mostly to see whether I could make an idea behave the way I expected. When something finally worked, it felt quietly satisfying.
During high school, programming stayed in the background. I focused on my studies, but in my free time I built Windows Forms applications. Many failed or were abandoned, but each one taught me something.
College Years
Computer Science at the Technological Institute of Athens felt like the natural next step. For the first time, I was surrounded by people who thought in similar ways, and that was reassuring.
I struggled to stay engaged with theory alone. I learned what was required, but I felt more connected to practical systems, PHP, early Joomla projects, and software that real people used. My studies took longer than planned, seven years in total. At times, that was difficult to accept, but those years were not wasted. They were spent building, experimenting, and slowly finding my direction.
In my third year, a project developed with peers placed third in a nationwide Microsoft innovation competition. We used QR codes to encourage recycling through rewards. The recognition gave me confidence at a time when I still doubted myself. Becoming a Microsoft Student Partner opened doors and helped me see how much more there was to learn.
Not long after, a professor hired me to refactor a tourism accommodation application. For my dissertation, I implemented a QR-based bill payment system on Windows Mobile. Completing it gave me a sense of closure and relief, more than pride.
First Business Step
After leaving that role, I completed my remaining coursework in a single year. During my military service, I took my first entrepreneurial step, unsure whether it was courage or stubbornness.
Together with two friends from the Microsoft competition, I co-founded a company and built a customer and utilities management system. We made progress slowly and sometimes painfully. Seeing the system adopted and used was deeply satisfying. It remained in operation for more than ten years.
Struggle for Survival
The company worked, but not well enough to support us. All three of us took other jobs. That period was exhausting. I joined a software firm, where I learned structure, deadlines, and what it means to be accountable to a team. Even then, we continued developing our own product outside work hours, driven more by belief than logic.
An opportunity came through that role. We took on an Android tablet application as external contractors. When it succeeded, it felt like a moment to breathe. We rented an office and returned full-time to our own company.
Rise & Fall
We grew quickly after that. A new client trusted us with building a full application ecosystem. We hired staff and moved to a larger office. For a while, it felt like we had finally found our footing.
By our fifth year, that client represented most of our revenue. When they encountered financial difficulties and ended the partnership, the impact was immediate. Two projects were completed. A third never started. Debts accumulated, and the pressure became constant. Closing the company was not dramatic. It was heavy and disappointing, and it took time to accept.
Recovery & Maturity
I set a clear goal: pay off all debts within one year. It was a way to regain a sense of control. I joined a small fintech startup with lower compensation but strong technical culture.
That year was demanding but grounding. I learned how products are shaped by constraints, and how decisions affect people beyond code. Paying off my debts felt less like victory and more like relief.
I later became part of the core team behind a product that grew into a global platform with hundreds of thousands of users. Watching something scale in that way was rewarding. When the company eventually closed, I left on good terms and took time to focus on my family, which had been waiting patiently in the background.
Today
In my free time, I developed an AI-based news analysis tool, initially as an experiment. It came from curiosity rather than ambition, and it slowly grew into something more meaningful.
Through contacts from previous startups, I was invited to help build a new fintech product. Today, I serve as VP of Engineering, designing systems for financial communities that include e-commerce, rewards, and affiliate platforms. The complexity and responsibility of the role continue to challenge me, and I welcome that.
Philosophy
I have worked across most areas of software development, from early sales conversations to infrastructure and architecture. That range taught me humility as much as confidence. I value understanding systems fully before changing them.
Deep down, I see myself as a generalist who prefers thoughtful, deliberate progress over quick fixes. However I recon that fast code has its place, especially in early stages where learning and iteration are key.
The failure of my company in my mid-twenties remains the most important lesson of my career. It taught me that progress is rarely linear, and that resilience is built slowly, through responsibility and care.