I have a habit of doing things the hard way. Not because I enjoy struggle, but because I refuse to settle for anything that doesn’t feel right. Some people call it rebellion. I call it common sense.
I left home alone as a teenager, bombed my studies, then somehow crawled my way to the top. I studied programming, switched to design, then quit both to do something that didn’t even have a name yet—design recruitment. Every logical step in my life has been followed by an illogical leap. And somehow, that’s the part that works.
It wasn’t intentional. I spent years thinking I was the problem. I wasn’t disciplined enough, focused enough, normal enough. Other people picked a lane and stayed in it. Meanwhile, I was out here building a career out of gut instincts and frustration.
But over time, I started seeing patterns. The people who did things “right” often ended up stuck. They followed the roadmap, only to realize too late that they were driving to the wrong place. The ones who jumped off the track? They struggled, sure. But they also discovered things no one else did. They built skill stacks no one could compete with. They became misfits who win.
Winning, of course, is a deceptive word. It implies ease. A smooth arc of success. But the reality is, being a misfit comes with a lot of uncomfortable moments.
Like the time I couldn’t even complete a fifteen-minute hike and thought I was done with trekking forever. Or the time I sat on my first Himalayan trek, knees shaking, wondering why I thought this was a good idea. Then, years later, there I was—six treks in thirteen months. Not because I was naturally fit. Not because I suddenly loved running (I still hate it). But because I kept showing up, even when it was frustrating and slow.
Or take writing. I believed for decades that I wasn’t a writer. Then one day, I wrote a blog. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. And now? I don’t just write—I own my writing. I cut the fluff. I sharpen my voice. I take a stance. Because if I’m going to do something, I’ll do it like I mean it.
This is the thing about being a misfit. You have to learn to trust yourself before the results show up. You have to bet on skills no one values yet. You have to be willing to look lost while you’re figuring it out.
Most people want guarantees before they take the leap. They want proof that the decision will pay off. That’s why they hesitate. They stay in jobs they hate, careers that bore them, lives that shrink them. Because at least it’s safe.
But real success? It’s built in the moments when no one is watching. When you’re awkwardly jogging, feeling like an idiot. When you’re writing a post and thinking, who even cares? When you’re doing the work before it looks like it’s working.
Being a misfit doesn’t mean being reckless. It means being intentional about breaking rules that don’t make sense. It means being the person who leaves the party when everyone else stays, not because you’re antisocial, but because you know it’s time to go.
Some people wait their whole lives for permission to change. Others take the leap, not because they’re fearless, but because they know the real risk is staying the same.
The misfit wins—not because they have it all figured out, but because they refuse to be trapped by what they’re supposed to do.
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