Meet Noe Jurado | marketer & artist

We had the good fortune of connecting with Noe Jurado and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi noe, have you ever found yourself in a spot where you had to decide whether to give up or keep going? How did you make the choice?
That’s a hard one. And I think the answer changes depending on where you are in life, or even the day.

For a long time, I didn’t think I had a choice. I grew up believing that survival came first. That you work to provide, to prove, to protect yourself. That doing things you love was a luxury, not a necessity. So I didn’t really ask myself questions like this. I just pushed through.

I told myself ambition would be enough. That if I just worked harder, stayed focused, didn’t complain, everything would work out. I avoided asking for help because I thought needing help meant I was failing. That mindset gave me a kind of power, but it also kept me from growing in a healthy way.

I ended up chasing a version of success that looked good on paper, but didn’t feel good inside. I was constantly looking for reassurance, validation, trying to prove I was a good person, trying to believe it myself. I hurt people I cared about. I got lost in things that gave me a temporary sense of control or pleasure, just to escape the pressure I was under.

There was a point where I started asking: Is this really what I want? Not just the job, or the goals, but the version of myself I was becoming to get there.

So now, when I think about whether to keep going or to give up, I ask myself a different question: Does this still have meaning?

Because not everything will be fun. Sometimes you’ll do hard things because they lead to something you care about. Other times, you’re doing hard things just because you’re used to pain, and you haven’t allowed yourself to imagine anything else.

I think meaning is the difference. It’s what helps you stay when it gets tough, but it’s also what gives you permission to leave when it’s time. If something no longer aligns with the person you’re trying to become, that’s not quitting. That’s choosing.

For me, finding that balance between survival and joy, between responsibility and creativity, has been a process. I’ve learned that success doesn’t have to come from suffering. That you can build a life with room for both work and wonder. That asking for help isn’t weakness, it’s wisdom.

So how do I know when to keep going? When there’s still something true in it. When it feels like it’s taking me closer to myself, not further away.

And if I don’t know yet, I give myself space to listen. Sometimes, the not knowing is part of the answer.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
My career has been shaped by necessity and love. I never had the luxury of following a linear path. From a young age, I learned how to work hard, not because it was inspiring, but because it was necessary. School wasn’t about finding myself. It was about making it out. It was about making sure I could provide, stay ahead, and not fall apart under pressure.

I’ve always had creative instincts. I was drawn to design, branding, and storytelling. But survival came first. I had to work, help at home, keep going. For a long time, I believed that if I stayed focused and didn’t ask for help, I would eventually be successful. And I was right in some ways, but it came at a cost. I often ignored my mental health. I made sacrifices that wore me down. I felt like I was always performing. Always trying to be strong. Always trying to be “the example.”

What sets me apart is that my work in employer branding is deeply personal. I don’t just build strategies. I tell human stories. I help organizations see their people, not just their roles. I bring a level of care and emotional honesty into what I do because I’ve lived what it means to feel invisible. My approach is rooted in empathy, shaped by my own experiences of code-switching, burnout, and constantly trying to prove I belonged.

Today, I’m proud to say I work in a space where I get to combine strategy with soul. I help shape how a company is experienced from the inside out. I focus on storytelling that connects. I highlight voices that deserve to be heard. I build brand reputations through people, not just product. And that means everything to me.

It hasn’t been easy. I’ve had moments where I lost direction, where I felt burnt out and unsure if I was doing enough. I’ve battled imposter syndrome, overworked myself, and sometimes moved too fast out of fear I would fall behind. But through all of it, I’ve learned that meaning matters more than momentum. That you don’t have to break yourself to succeed. That sometimes stepping back is the most powerful thing you can do.

What I want the world to know about me is this: I am someone who creates with purpose. Whether through my corporate work or my personal art practice, I am always trying to make space for truth, for humanity, and for healing. I care deeply. And I believe our stories, especially the hard ones, deserve to be told with care.

That’s what my brand is about. That’s what I’ve built my career on. And that’s what I’ll keep showing up for.

Any places to eat or things to do that you can share with our readers? If they have a friend visiting town, what are some spots they could take them to?
I’ll be honest, I’m not much of a planner. I care less about the perfect itinerary and more about the energy. For me, it’s about being around people who make you feel like you belong, like you can be yourself. If I’ve got that, we’re good.

If my best friend was in town, we’d definitely be catching a White Sox game. We’d pregame with some wings from Output Lounge because those wings just hit every time. Then we’d head to the game, posted up in the bleachers with a drink, vibing out and yelling at bad calls like we know better.

After that, we’d probably end up at some of the bars my friends work at. That’s the thing about Chicago. It’s not just the city, it’s who you know in it. I love pulling up to places where the bartender knows your name, the DJ daps you up, and it just feels like home. We’d probably hop around a bit. Nothing fancy. Just good music, strong drinks, and familiar faces.

Some days would be more lowkey. Visiting a few of my friends’ art studios, catching them in their element. There’s something powerful about being in creative spaces, watching people you care about doing what they love. I like showing that side of the city too. Not just what tourists come for, but the communities that are really building something.

Honestly, that’s what makes Chicago special to me. The people. The mix of grit, heart, and soul. I could give you a list of restaurants or neighborhoods, but at the end of the day, the best time isn’t about the spot. It’s about the feeling.

So wherever we end up, it’s about sharing laughs, good food, maybe a late-night drive blasting sad music, and just being present. That’s all I really need.

Who else deserves some credit and recognition?
My sister, always. She has been my quiet anchor since the beginning. Growing up, I didn’t have a blueprint for success. What I had were early mornings, long days, and the understanding that if I wanted more for us, I had to become it first.

She is the reason I kept trying when I wanted to quit. The reason I chased dreams I didn’t even know how to name yet. I’ve spent most of my life trying to be someone she could look up to. Not because I had all the answers, but because I wanted her to believe that we were allowed to want more. That we could come from humble beginnings and still take up space in big, beautiful ways.

I wanted her to see that it was possible to live a life that wasn’t just about surviving. That we could create, explore, rest, love, and still make something meaningful out of it all. She deserves to see that joy belongs to us too.

I’d also give a quiet shoutout to The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. That book came into my life at a time when I was constantly measuring my worth by what I was doing or producing. It taught me that life isn’t linear. That sometimes we pause our biggest goals not because we have failed, but because we are being shaped in other ways. There is value in stillness, in wandering, in waiting. You are still on the path, even if it doesn’t look the way you thought it would.

So to my sister, thank you for being the reason I believed something better was possible. And to that story, thank you for reminding me that the journey is sacred, even when it feels uncertain.

Instagram: van.chikogh

Linkedin: Noe Jurado