Bo Wesdorp

Growing up in Amsterdam, I was always surrounded by a buzz of energy and opportunity.

Yet, as a kid, I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. While some of my friends had their dreams mapped out—one wanted to be a doctor, another an astronaut—I was out there enjoying life, playing sports, and doing just enough to keep my grades decent. I was passionate about a lot of things, but none of them screamed "career material," at least not yet.

My focus during high school was field hockey. I poured so much energy into the sport that my grades were pretty much just coasting along. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about school; it’s just that I cared way more about hitting goals on the field than hitting the books. When it came time to choose a university path, I figured Economics and Business would be a safe choice. After all, economics had always been my best subject, and it seemed like a practical way forward that wouldn’t raise any eyebrows.

But then, I hit accounting. Numbers I could deal with, but spreadsheets and balance sheets drained my soul. I began to question my life choices: Is this really what I’m supposed to do for the rest of my life? The thought of sticking with it made me feel like I was skating on thin ice, and I wasn’t about to fall through.

So, I dropped out, much to the shock of my parents, and found myself at a crossroads. It was like I had accidentally hit a giant reset button on life. But then, I stumbled upon the field of Artificial Intelligence, and I was hooked from day one. It was like discovering a treasure chest of subjects that combined technology, problem-solving, and a dash of sci-fi. This was more than just studying; it felt like exploring a whole new world. I couldn’t get enough of it.

Around that time, my brother Dale and I had this wild idea: "Why not start a company?" We called it Studio Miyagi, and we were literally working out of a basement. It was as cliché as it gets for a startup. We were pulling late nights doing coding projects and learning as we went. Two years flew by, and during the second year, I decided to take on a new challenge: a master’s degree in Information Systems. Balancing full-time work and full-time study was like juggling flaming swords. There were moments of doubt, for sure, like when I realized I hadn’t seen the sun in days, but it was also thrilling in a weird, chaotic way.

Once I graduated, I thought I should do something with AI beyond web development, so I joined an algorithmic trading firm in Rotterdam. The work was cutting-edge, developing deep learning models to trade stocks and derivatives. But the financial world wasn’t what I’d hoped for. The atmosphere was stiff, and the pace was sluggish, which is ironic when you’re writing algorithms that make split-second decisions.

After a year of crunching numbers and wearing stiff shirts, I had a heart-to-heart with Dale. It was time to come back to Miyagami, my true home. And boy, was I glad I did. Ever since I rejoined, there hasn’t been a single day where I’ve dreaded going to the office. We’ve built an amazing team, and seeing how much the company has grown in just the past year or two has been incredible. There’s a kind of magic in working alongside people who share the same drive, and every day feels like we’re building something remarkable.

Looking back, I think the key to finding your career path is not to overthink it. Be curious, try new things, and don’t worry if you don’t have it all figured out right away. I never imagined I'd end up working with AI or running a company with my brother, but life has a funny way of surprising you when you stay open to possibilities.

To anyone who's still figuring it out: embrace the twists and turns. You might just find that the "wrong" path takes you exactly where you’re supposed to be. And if that happens to involve working out of a basement and pulling all-nighters, well, at least you’ll have some pretty epic stories to tell.