Some people dey complain say ino repost, let me tell you if you post some content that x don’t want I might not repost so it won’t affect my account thats the reason sometimes I might just like and move on
My wife and I were together for 35 years.
We married young. Had our daughter about ten years in.
I still remember the day she went into labour. I was at work when it happened. Instead of calling me to come immediately she told me to stay put. Said she was fine. I told her she was out of her mind if she thought I wasn't going to be there. She screamed at me to stay where I was.
I finished the day and drove straight to the hospital.
She was already gone by the time I got there.
I found the nearest phone and called her back.
She was home. Asking me where I'd been.
I drove to the house and found her in the living room. Curled up in her chair. Exhausted. Cradling our baby.
Under normal circumstances that should have been one of the happiest moments of my life.
But we had spent nine months being told we were having a boy.
Her explanation was a paperwork mix-up. We'd spent hundreds on clothes and toys for a boy.
I let it go. I was a father. I wasn't going to let anything take that from me.
I spent that whole first night in bed with both of them. Held the baby when she cried. Rubbed my wife's back until she slept.
I worked hard for the next 25 years. Kept food on the table. Kept the lights on. Saved up for things that mattered. Watched my daughter take her first steps, start school, walk across the stage at graduation.
Nobody ever said we looked alike. Nobody said she looked like her mum either. I noticed it. Never said anything. It didn't change how I loved her.
Then came the cancer.
Years of watching the woman I loved disappear slowly. I was there every day until the last one.
My daughter was at university a hundred miles away when it happened.
I was alone.
In those last moments my wife looked at me the way she used to. Then something changed in her face. Her smile went. She started crying.
And she told me.
Our son had died at birth. Complications. Something broke in her when they told her. She couldn't accept it.
My daughter was taken from another family.
Me: (sat there)
Me: (35 years)
Me: (every memory)
Me: (all of it)
Me: (rearranging itself)
My daughter is home for the holidays next week.
I still haven't found the words to tell her.
Me: (I don't know if I ever will)
Me: (I don't know what telling her does to her)
Me: (I don't know what not telling her does to me)
Me: (I just know I'm sitting in this house alone)
Me: (with something that has no name)
I think I lost a friendship because I couldn't justify another $30,000 in debt.
Last year was my freshman year of college, and honestly, I loved it. I lived on campus, made friends, had the whole dorm experience, and got to enjoy that part of college life everyone talks about.
The problem is that experience came with a price tag.
By the end of the year, I'd taken out roughly $37,000 in loans between tuition and housing.
Still, when housing applications opened for sophomore year, a few friends and I started making plans. There were four of us who wanted to live together. We paid the $100 housing application fee and entered the lottery system hoping to get a quad.
Then reality started showing up.
One friend couldn't afford the application fee, so suddenly our quad became a triple.
That might not sound like a big deal, but it drove the housing costs up.
Then another friend decided they wanted to live alone because they weren't comfortable with the available triple-room options.
Now we were down to two people.
Which meant the cost went up again.
I sat down and did the math.
I'd already borrowed $37,000 after one year.
To stay on campus again, I'd be looking at potentially another $30,000 or more in additional debt.
And for what?
A dorm room.
I kept staring at the numbers thinking there had to be a way to make it work, but there wasn't.
So I made the decision to commute instead.
I figured I'd already gotten the freshman dorm experience. One of my friends hadn't, and I genuinely felt bad that my decision affected their plans.
When I told them, I apologized. A lot.
I even offered to pay back the $100 housing fee because I knew my change of plans created problems.
I explained that it wasn't about not wanting to live with them. It wasn't personal.
I just couldn't justify burying myself deeper in debt.
Apparently that wasn't good enough.
They got angry and called me disrespectful.
From their perspective, I guess I blew up the plans we'd made together.
From my perspective, I chose not to take on another $30,000 loan before turning 20.
And somehow that was the thing that ended the friendship.
Looking back, it still feels surreal.
I understand being disappointed.
I understand being frustrated.
But if a friendship can't survive me making a financially responsible decision for my future, maybe it wasn't as strong as I thought it was in the first place.
The one thing that changed my trading forever wasn’t entries or risk management or psychology.
It was bias.
Once you know what the market is likely to do next, everything else becomes easier,
And making profits become your second nature.
If you’re still struggling with bias, you’re in luck.
I’ll be dropping my next Week Market Overview tonight on my TG, it’s completely free btw.
See you there.
https://t.co/4JscwTqK26
Wishing y’all a 5 figure withdrawal week ahead. 📈