In 2017, I first stepped into the cryptocurrency world. To be honest, it wasn't a rational choice; I was stimulated.
Someone around me made money from trading cryptocurrencies and directly exchanged it for a house. At the dinner table, they casually said, "It's not that hard; just hold it and it will rise."
On the spot, I got carried away and threw all my savings of 130,000, which I had saved for several years, into the exchange.
At that moment, I truly felt I was at a turning point in my destiny.
The first lesson reality gave me came quickly and harshly.
I didn't understand logic, I didn't look at trends; I bought whoever shouted the loudest.
This cryptocurrency is going to take off today, that project is going to change fate tomorrow.
As a result, the numbers in my account seemed to be pulled down by someone.
In just a few days, more than half of it evaporated.
I stared at the screen, my palms sweating.
I wanted to cut my losses but felt unwilling; I wanted to hold on but lacked confidence.
That feeling wasn't just losing money; it was as if I was hollowed out—
The money was genuinely saved, but my understanding was as thin as paper.
The most ironic part was that, at that time, I was still comforting myself:
"Just wait a bit longer; others are making money, I can't be that unlucky."
Looking back now, that wasn't patience; it was sheer delusion.
What truly woke me up was a certain deep night.
My account was glowing green, and I suddenly realized one thing:
It wasn't the market targeting me; I simply didn't have the qualification to sit at the table.
From that day on, I stopped chasing news everywhere.
I no longer fantasized about a turnaround.
I began to honestly study:
How money is made,
And how it is lost.
That 130,000 didn't immediately help me make money,
But it bought the most expensive thing—an entry ticket to understanding.
Later, I came to understand
The cryptocurrency world has never been about who is bolder, but about who can last longer.
