Never give up. We hear it everywhere. Keep fighting. Keep pushing. Keep believing. Winners never quit. It sounds good. But I'm not sure it's always the best advice. Sometimes, giving up is precisely what you need to do. Not because you are weak. Not because you failed. But because you spent so long trying to force one door open, you haven't noticed the others around you. There are relationships we keep trying to save. Jobs we desperately try to hold onto. Businesses that stopped working a long time ago. Dreams we continue to chase simply because we once decided they were our dreams. And occasionally we know, deep down, that something is over. But we don't let go. Why? Because giving up feels like failure, and I've already invested so much. "I've already invested so much." "I've come too far." "What will people think?" "Maybe if I just try a little harder..." So we keep knocking on the same door. Again. And again. And again. There is something admirable about persistence. But persistence without reflection can become a prison. Personal stability isn't about holding onto everything. Sometimes stability comes from having enough confidence in yourself to say: This isn't working anymore. And then walking away. That doesn't mean the time you invested was wasted. It doesn't mean you made the wrong decision when you started. And it certainly doesn't mean you failed. Maybe that relationship taught you what you need from the next one. Maybe that job gave you experience you will use somewhere completely different. Maybe that business taught you more through failing than another ten years of success could have taught you. Maybe the dream was right for the person you were ten years ago, but no longer right for the person you are today. We often talk about having the courage to continue. Perhaps we should talk a little more about having the courage to stop. Because sometimes the door that refuses to open isn't asking you to knock harder. It's asking you to turn around. And perhaps the door you were supposed to walk through has been behind you the entire time.

It can really be that simple. Someone gets the job you wanted. Clap for them. Someone sells their first book while yours is still sitting there waiting to be discovered. Clap for them. Someone gets promoted, buys the house, finds love, starts the business, gets the opportunity, or finally reaches the goal you have been working towards. Clap for them. Not because it doesn't hurt occasionally. Not because you don't wish it were you. And certainly not because you have given up on your dreams. But because someone else's success does not take anything away from your possibility of succeeding. I think we sometimes make life unnecessarily difficult by turning other people's achievements into measurements of our progress. "Why them and not me?" "I've worked just as hard." "When will it finally be my turn?" I know those thoughts. And sometimes they are difficult to silence, especially when you have been waiting for your breakthrough for a very long time. But another person's success isn't evidence of your failure. Their chapter is simply different from yours. And perhaps that is where personal stability becomes important. Personal stability means you sometimes feel disappointed, jealous, frustrated, or left behind. Those are human emotions. It means those emotions don't have to decide who you become. You can be disappointed about your situation and genuinely happy for somebody else at the same time. Those two things can coexist. I can wish that I had received the opportunity. And still shake your hand when you receive it. I can wish my book sold thousands of copies. And still celebrate when yours becomes a bestseller. I can be struggling financially. And still be genuinely happy when your business succeeds. Your success isn't stealing something from me. And my struggle doesn't require your failure to make me feel better. That is why I have come to like this sentence so much: Until it's my turn, I'll keep clapping for others. And if my turn takes longer than expected, what will I do?

Most of us have experienced betrayal at some point. Someone misused our trust in such a way that we were left staring at the pieces, wondering how we were supposed to put everything back together. And after an experience like that, we often hear: “I don't trust people anymore. They have to earn my trust first.” I understand that. I was there myself. But over time, I started looking at trust differently. Today, I believe that a new person entering my life deserves the benefit of the doubt. They should not have to pay a bill that someone else created. Why should a person I meet today be punished for something somebody did to me five or ten years ago? Trust doesn't mean switching off common sense. This is where I think we sometimes confuse trust with access. Trusting someone doesn't mean giving them everything they ask for. If I have known you for three days and you ask me for a hug, I may happily give you one. If I have known you for three days and you ask me for £10,000, my response may be slightly different. 😄 That doesn't automatically mean I distrust you. It means I am responsible for my own decisions. You can trust somebody and still say no. You can trust somebody and still have boundaries. You can trust somebody and still listen to that little voice saying, Something doesn't feel right here. And sometimes when somebody asks: “Don't you trust me?” The most accurate answer might actually be: “Yes, I trust you. But right now, I don't trust myself to make the right decision.” Those are two completely different things. And perhaps that is something we don't talk about enough. Sometimes the uncertainty we feel isn't actually about the other person. It is about us. We may trust their intentions and still be unsure whether saying yes is the right decision for us. That isn't distrust. That's common sense. My 95% rule, I try to give every new person who enters my life about 95% trust. Now, before anyone starts calculating my Trust Index 😂, let me clarify that this percentage isn't scientific. You cannot measure trust like that.

A few days ago, I asked a simple question on Instagram: If you had to invest all your savings in one of two things, which would you choose? A guaranteed $1 million — or the formula that could help you build personal stability and happiness? 90% did read the post but did not interact to start with. 75% chose the million dollars. And I understand why. I probably would have been tempted by the million too. After all, a million dollars is tangible. You can see it. You can calculate it. You can imagine what you would do with it. But then I started thinking about what happens after you receive it. You have $1,000,000. You buy a pack of chewing gum. Technically, you're no longer a millionaire. Of course, the chewing gum isn't the problem. The point is that from the moment you receive the money, the number can start moving down. Then comes the car. The nicer house. The holidays. The restaurants. Perhaps helping family. Perhaps investments that don't work out. And quite often, as income or wealth increases, expectations and lifestyle increase with it. The million can change your circumstances dramatically. But it doesn't necessarily change you. If you were anxious before the million, you can be wealthy and anxious. If you constantly compared yourself with others before, there will always be someone with two million. If you had no sense of purpose before, a larger bank balance doesn't automatically create one. If your internal stability depended heavily on circumstances before, money may improve those circumstances without necessarily changing that dependency. And this is where the second choice becomes interesting. Imagine instead that you learned how to build a reasonably stable internal baseline. Not permanent happiness. Not a life without stress. Not some magical state in which nothing bothers you anymore. Personal stability. A foundation from which you can experience success without needing to cling to it and experience setbacks without completely falling apart.

Sometimes we shall celebrate the small blessings so that the bigger ones find us, eventually. Just having some fun. Enjoy