At last, I am old enough to drink legally in both the United States and the UAE.
Looking back, I am struck by how quickly the past few years have gone. It feels as though I only just arrived in London for university; yet somewhere along the way, almost without noticing, I changed in more ways than I realized.
Growing up, I thought adulthood would mean freedom: a life that was easier, lighter, and largely free of worry. Only now am I beginning to understand that freedom is not the absence of pressure, but the willingness to take responsibility for my own choices. Maturity is not the slow hardening of the heart. It is the ability to keep some measure of sincerity, passion, and curiosity even as the world becomes more pragmatic around me.
This year, I have come to see more clearly that what I want is not stability in the conventional sense. I want to build my own systems, make my own trades, run my own fund, and do work that leaves a real mark. That path will inevitably bring loneliness, anxiety, and doubt, along with moments when few people understand what I am trying to do. But I believe more strongly now that the point of life is not to follow a path that looks right from the outside. It is to choose one whose cost I am genuinely willing to bear.
Investing is much the same. There will always be someone in the market who earns more, sees more clearly, or moves faster than I do. If I keep measuring myself against everyone else, there will be no end to the anxiety. What matters is whether I am more clear-eyed, rational, and patient than I was a year ago; whether I have learned to wait, and learned when to hold myself back. If, each year, I become a little stronger than the person I used to be, time will take care of the compounding.
I hope my future self will not merely make more money, but see the world more broadly, think more deeply, and carry a steadier mind. I hope I will cherish the people who truly matter, and never forget the child who once could not wait to grow up.
Twenty-one. Still betting on myself.
