Finding My Wings: My GDC 2026 Experience

This was my first GDC, and if I’m being honest, I didn’t fully know what I was walking into.

There were moments throughout the week where I found myself alone in conversations I would have deferred in the past. I worried I wouldn’t know how to read the room, connect with people, or even use the right business language.

I’ve spent the last few years growing into my role as Business Development & Account Manager at UX is Fine. Listening, learning, and telling myself that was enough. I could stay close, contribute when needed, but I didn’t have to fully carry the weight of showing up on my own.

GDC changed that.


There was no handoff. No safety net. Just me introducing myself, explaining what we do, answering questions in real time. And I could feel that hesitation I’ve carried before. That quiet voice asking, “Am I saying this right?” or “Should I wait?”

There was no one to wait for. That’s when something shifted.

I started speaking before I had time to overthink. I started trusting that I knew enough, that I am enough in these rooms. Not because I have every answer, but because I understand people, I understand our work, and I know how to connect the two. I didn’t need to be the most technical person in the room. I just needed to be clear and confident in what we bring.

It made me realize something uncomfortable but important. Being in someone’s shadow can feel safe, even when it’s holding you back. It can look like mentorship, and often it is. I’ve learned so much by working closely with someone more experienced. But if you’re not careful, it also becomes a place to hide.

And the truth is, I was hiding a little. Not intentionally. Not out of lack of ambition. But out of habit. Out of respect. Out of not wanting to get it wrong in front of peers I admire.

GDC forced me to let go of that. Once I did, I didn’t miss it.


Stepping out on my own didn’t mean leaving mentorship behind. It meant finally applying it. Everything I’ve absorbed over the years started to click once I was the one leading conversations, asking questions, and sitting in the discomfort without looking for reassurance.

Without that fallback, I stopped second guessing every thought before I said it. I spoke sooner. I trusted my instincts more. There was a clarity that came from having no one else to defer to, just me, my perspective, and the conversation in front of me.

That shift made all the difference. Midweek, I realized I wasn’t nervous anymore. I was just in it. Talking to people, building relationships, representing our team without overthinking every word.

And I started to see the results. Conversations felt more natural. Follow-ups came easier. Relationships I had been building quietly started to turn into something real. People remembered me. They even connected with me on LinkedIn. Doors opened a little faster. In one case, a connection I had been nurturing for over a year turned into a real opportunity because we finally met in person and shared some laughs about our kids.

It reminded me that this industry builds slowly, until it doesn’t.


I also had the chance to sit on a panel about being a mother in this industry. It ended up being one of the most meaningful parts of the week. The conversation was honest. We talked about boundaries, time, and what we are no longer willing to sacrifice to keep up.

One idea stuck with me. Protect your time like it matters. Because it does. And those boundaries don’t make you less effective. They make you sharper, more intentional, and better at your job.

Beyond the panel, I felt something else throughout the week. There’s a growing network of women in games who are showing up for each other in real ways. It’s not loud or performative. It’s consistent. Support, recognition, encouragement, shared without expectation.

Being in those spaces made something click for me. The same confidence I was finding in meetings started to show up here too. I wasn’t just learning from these women. I was standing alongside them.

All of that made this moment feel even more important personally. Somewhere along the way, I stopped trying to get into the room…

…and realized I was already in it.

I think that’s what finding your wings actually feels like. Not a big, dramatic moment. Just a quiet shift where you realize you’re no longer waiting for permission because you’re already flying.


Ashley Conley works in Business Development & Account Management at UX Is Fine, helping game studios access world-class UX/UI design and implementation support. She guides clients from first conversation through delivery, building partnerships that last beyond a single project.

She’s also a wife and proud mom to an 8-year-old Roblox superfan with serious YouTuber and professional soccer ambitions. Motherhood keeps her close to how the next generation thinks about games. Outside of work, she coaches youth soccer, likes hiking, reading and playing board games with family.

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