I am not more than any other human being, but my life has absolutely no business being conventional.
I am a strategist and an operator, a world traveller and explorer by heart, a friend and a loving partner, an athlete and a lifelong football fan, a reader and a writer, a foodie and a great cook.
I’ve never been particularly good at following a predefined path. I’ve hit rock bottom, started over, and learned that life rarely goes according to plan and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
I’m a big believer in staying curious and treating people right. Outside work, you find me travelling somewhere unfamiliar, at the gym, watching a Manchester United game, cooking something or abusing coffee. I’ve travelled across Europe, Latin-America, Asia, Africa and the Middle-East, been held at gunpoint, hitchhiked across countries, climbed volcanoes and met beautiful people along the way. I also enjoy my small circle, a good night out, long dinners and doing absolutely nothing when I feel like it. There’s more to life than work, after all.
I ask questions, figure things out, then I make them work. I’ve built businesses and systems, solved problems in industries I barely knew, led teams I’ve never met in person and learned things I had no business knowing how to do. I don’t need to be an expert before I get started, I only need to understand the problem, find the right tools, and learn whatever it takes to get the job done. Yes, sometimes this means figuring out a business I knew nothing about a week earlier. I strongly believe resourcefulness beats credentials when it comes to getting things done and learning fast matters more than pretending to know everything.
A cold and rainy FA Cup night at Old Trafford, a teenager standing on the terraces in Székesfehérvár, four World Cup games in Mexico and a wardrobe full of jerseys from Mandalay to Guadalajara. Four things that connect a lifetime of following the beautiful game and a reminder that loyalty and belonging matter more than the result.
Ending the agency relationship was the easy part. The hard part was building a department that owned the results. As external CMO, I hired an eight-person performance marketing team around the work, not job titles, and made ownership the core skill. Four people I mentored went on to more senior roles.
The clinic’s ads looked healthy: cheap leads, steady conversions, glowing reports. But the cheapest conversion was always the low-ticket one. We audited the whole digital setup, separated acquisition by treatment type, rebuilt tracking around business value and automated booking, so surgical consultations finally had a path from ad to calendar.
An Emirates aesthetic clinic had the surgeons and equipment for high-value procedures, but their calendar was full of lip fillers and botox. Over two years we changed consultations, incentives, calendar rules and sales ownership. High-ticket appointments rose from 13% to 38%, and revenue per appointment from AED 4,500 to AED 10,400.
It does not matter if I’m trying to order dinner in South America or explain a digital advertising campaign to a regulatory colleague. If I want someone to understand me, I have to make an effort to communicate in a way they can understand.
Once I fucked up a big ecommerce campaign. Actually not once, but this is the one that still haunts me. I hope I get some kind of closure by publishing it.
I’ve worked with enough entrepreneurs, self-proclaimed visionaries and business geniuses to develop a rather serious allergy to entrepreneurial theatre. Between AI evangelists, LinkedIn philosophers and founders in love with their own ideas, I’ve started wondering when actually running a business became less important than looking like you’re running one.
I spent 3 months in Mexico during the summer of 2026 and had the chance to attend some games at the World Cup. Came home with ridicolous amount of memories and a big love towards mexican people.