SPEEDOMETER

​“I’m profitable. At least, my system is.”

That’s what I kept telling myself.
Then one question started stinging:

“Why can’t I show it?”

Where’s the proof?

Where’s the green screenshot I can point at and be like, “See? told ya!”

Somewhere in that frustration, I started questioning more than my results. 

I began wondering whether all the time I’d invested was actually taking me somewhere, or whether I was just getting better at convincing myself I was improving.

So I did what most of us avoid. I opened my PnL and went through my whole trades.
Every. Single. Trade. 

Guess what!? 

The progress was there.
It just wasn’t loud.

My entries had gotten cleaner.

My exits had become much more precise.

I’d stopped chasing trades that never belonged to me and was more in control of impulses that would, before now, lead me to self-sabotage. 

I was, in fact, growing.

But did I notice? No.

Why?

Well because I was too busy staring at the wrong speedometer. 

I mean, is it entirely surprising? 

You look around and see your peers making strides in life - building careers, exploring the world, buying the cars, living in the best of houses and simply living the dream. 

Meanwhile, you’re still putting the pieces together, working towards a future you can almost picture but haven’t quite reached. 

It’s easy to let that contrast get to you and the more you entertain it, the more it eats away at your confidence.

Before long, someone else’s progress becomes the yardstick for your own and you begin to mistake a different timeline for a lack of progress. 

That was the loop I found myself succumbing to.

As a result, I lost sight of where I was and how well I was doing in terms of how the process actually works. 

There were two speeds at play here: 
The speed I expected.
And the actual speed of the process.

Expected speed wants blues on repeat.
Back-to-back wins.
A clean equity curve going up and to the right, like it’s late for something.

However, actual speed is slower.
Much slower. Especially during the building stages.

Think of it like a steady incline.
So long as you remain consistent, compounding does the rest. 

And the frustration?
It lives in the gap between the two.

I wasn’t failing.
I was impatient with how success actually arrives.
(Yes, I wanted to print blues like a bank. But the market wanted me to learn how to sit down first.)

To this end, I began to embrace boredom and repetition. I’d sit and wait, patiently, for my now defined A+ setups and make sure they tick all my boxes before I execute.

Instead of focusing on the money and the flashy dream ahead, I began to focus on what truly moved the needle in this space - executing my system consistently without fear nor hesitation for every unique moment they occur. 

Along the line, something quietly began to change.

I started studying my losses instead of just resenting them.

I started studying my wins to understand why they worked, not just celebrate them.

Then I did more of what worked.
Again. And again.

Before now, repetition felt like punishment.

Same setup.

Same rules.

Same routine.

Now?

It feels like a superpower.

Because here’s what I learned: impatience makes you chase results. Repetition makes you earn them. 

Here’s the part that’s hard to accept.
You can’t rush mastery.You can only show up for it.

So I’m trying something different now. I’m letting the outcome go and falling in love with the process.

Did I follow my plan?

Did I take only my setups?

Did I respect my risk?

If yes, then that’s a win. Even on a red day.
Because results are the echo of repetition.

Do the work with precision, long enough, then let the results speak for themselves without you chasing them.

So dear reader, if you’re feeling that friction right now, the one between where you are, where you want to be and where you’re expected to be, kindly check your speedometer.

You might not be slow.
You might just be measuring with the wrong expectation.

Trust the process.
Repeat it until it becomes you.
Let the evidence speak. 

Until then, Sayonara!