Let’s be honest – if you’d told childhood-me that I’d grow up to be someone who philosophises about toys for a living, it would blow my pure child’s mind.
Yet here I am, designing play experiences and taking it just as seriously as a child takes their play.
Growing up, my favourite toys weren’t the flashy ones with all the bells and whistles. The irony? My most profound play moments often involved no toys at all.
I remember sitting at the old wooden chair in my grandparents’ kitchen, cradling a big enamel cup of milk like it held the secrets of the universe. Adults passing by might have thought: what is this child doing? Just drink it already! But I was transfixed by the girl looking back at me from the milky surface – my reflection, yet somehow more. I could make out the curve of my forehead, the wide questioning eyes, the slope of my nose disappearing into the white horizon.
This wasn’t just a distorted image; it was a portal to somewhere else, a looking glass into another dimension where I existed differently. As I tilted the cup ever so slightly, watching my reflection ripple and reform, entire worlds unfolded. Staring at each other, the girl in the milk and I, we shared secret stories that no adult in the kitchen would understand.
Those quiet, imaginative moments – hiding my face in an enamel cup, watching dust particles dance in sunbeams, arranging pebbles in patterns only I could decipher - these created sacred spaces where I could tune into myself without interference. In the quiet of these self-made rituals, I wasn’t just playing; I was becoming.
Years later, as I ventured into the world of toy design, I carried that memory with me – the sense of inner exploration, quiet magic, and self-led wonder. After finishing my studies and interning at a wooden toy company, I moved from Warsaw to Berlin, chasing a dream to blend traditional craftsmanship with modern technology. That dream took shape in the form of Vai Kai, the toy startup I co-founded.
Our flagship product, Avakai, embodied this vision. These wooden dolls, inspired by classic forms, were brought to life with subtle technology – allowing them to communicate through lights, sounds, and gentle vibrations. They were made to foster screen-free, open-ended play and encourage children to explore connection, empathy, and storytelling in their own way.
I still remember the first time we handed a quick weekend prototype – cobbled together with an Arduino board – to my co-founder’s daughter and her friend. With barely a word of instruction, they dove straight into play: curious, focused, completely immersed. They discovered the toys' features on their own and created an entire world together. That moment reminded me what children are capable of when we give them space and trust.
Despite the initial success, challenges followed quickly: not having a business background, building from scratch in a foreign country without a financial safety net. Trying to keep up with the VC-driven startup world slowly pulled us away from the purpose that sparked everything in the first place. What began as a crystal-clear vision became clouded by compromises that ultimately didn’t serve the product – and never translated into sustainable growth.
When we eventually closed the company, it was heartbreaking. I tucked the dolls away in drawers – it was too painful to look at something that had once brought me so much joy. It took years of therapy and working in roles that didn’t align with my values to fully process the experience and find my way back to what truly matters to me.
But that chapter, as hard as it was, deepened my clarity and strengthened my conviction. I came to understand that toys aren’t just playthings – they can be powerful tools for growth. Instruments for nurturing creativity, emotional regulation, and self-awareness.
In a world increasingly dominated by screens, noise, and the pressure to keep up, I believe even more in the power of tactile, open-ended play. In a world full of voices telling children what to do, I want to create moments that help them hear their own.
And so here I am – at the beginning of a new chapter, looking at Vai Kai dolls on my shelf delighted again. With that same quiet sense of wonder I once felt gazing into a cup of milk, I now design play experiences that invite children to explore who they are.
Because in the end, the best kind of play doesn’t tell kids what to think.
It invites them to discover who they are becoming, and to remember who they've always been.
Follow my journey to see what’s next.