Bringing UX Off the Screen: What My Bathroom Renovation Taught Me

For most of my career, UX has lived on a screen. I design digital experiences and map user flows, but always in a digital context. I’ve wanted to apply those same principles to a physical space, but I never really had the chance.

Then a leak in my bathroom was discovered. Although this wasn’t the circumstance I had hoped for, it was an opportunity to redesign a three-dimensional environment using the same thinking I use every day in UX.

The original layout technically “fit” on paper, but it didn’t fit real life. The entry was only 24 inches wide. A closet had been squeezed into a corner, even though there was never truly space for it. The light switch was outside the bathroom. And the lighting came from a dim fan and a single wall sconce.

With three kids, this created constant issues. Everyone was falling over one another when it came time to brush teeth or get a bath. The space wasn’t designed for actual human behavior. It was designed for what would fit on paper.

That’s feature creep in the physical world. Something extra gets added because it can, not because it improves the experience.

When it came time to renovate, I approached the room like a user flow.

I removed the extra closet and widened the entry. That instantly solved the narrow bottleneck. I moved the door to create better circulation, which made it possible for multiple people to be in the room without stepping on each other. The space didn’t get larger square footage-wise; it just became more usable.

I also improved the lighting. I added a three-light vanity fixture to provide even, functional task lighting. The fan light stayed as-is, but the space no longer relies on it as the primary light source. And the light switch finally moved inside the bathroom, exactly where every user naturally expects to find it.

These updates removed complexity. The result is a space that feels clearer, brighter, and easier to move through.

This is the same foundation I use in digital UX.

Just because a feature fits in a layout doesn’t mean it belongs. Just because something is technically possible doesn’t mean it improves the experience. Every element should earn its place by making the flow easier, not harder.

Whether it’s a bathroom or a website, good design starts with understanding real people. How they move. What they expect. Where friction slows them down.

This renovation reminded me of something I’ve learned over and over in my career:
A design succeeds when it supports real actions, not when it adds more options.