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I grew up as a fly on the wall in boardrooms. I was the random kid sitting in the corner while founders, investors, and other “successful” people made decisions that moved millions of dollars.
In all that time watching them, here is the most important thing I learned: the reality of success is much messier than you think.
We tend to view people at the top of their game as almost superhuman - balanced, enlightened, 4D-chess-playing geniuses. But up close? They are often much more irrational and impulsive than we realize.
But they have one specific mental algorithm that separates them from everyone else. And once you see it, you realize that the only thing holding you back isn't lack of talent or ability.
Most people approach life like a democratic government. Before they make a move - launching the business, quitting the job, posting the art - they convene a mental parliament. They debate the nuance, the pros and cons, the middle ground.
And the result? Inefficiency and paralysis. They rarely get to the action part because the bureaucracy is too complicated.
The people at the top don’t do this. When they have an idea, they don’t stop to debate all of its merits. They just run tests.
It’s a simple loop:
The people who win don't write mental essays on why X should work. They just throw it at the wall. They aren't worried about being wrong; they’re just worried about getting better data. Because they know that the only way to tell if something will work is to try it.
Many of us are looking for the “perfect” answer. For the universe to send a signed permission slip to do that thing we want to do.
But there is no perfect answer. There are only ones that are good enough, and ones that aren’t.
There is an important difference between hoping for a different life and believing you can have one.
Hope is wishful thinking. It sounds like, "I wish I could run my own company..." But underneath, there is always a silent: “...but I'm not ready”, “but I'm not that person yet”, “but it won’t work.” Hope keeps you safe - and it keeps you stuck.
Belief is different. Belief is grounded knowledge. It’s not magic; it’s observation.
Because I spent my childhood around these “elite” people, I saw their flaws up close. I watched tech CEOs struggle to turn on a kitchen oven. I saw top investors have temper tantrums because their impulsive whims were rejected. I saw just how mediocre the “greats” can be.
And that’s what gave me belief. Because if that guy - the one who can’t operate a basic home appliance - can build an empire, then of course I can.
This is not arrogance; it’s data. If you truly saw the people you admire on a day-to-day basis, you’d realize the pedestal you put them on is the only thing keeping you on the floor.
Belief is the starting line. But what happens when you believe you can do it, you're working hard, and you're still not making progress?
You've hit an invisible ceiling - one created by your frame of reference. You can't test your way out of this one, because you don’t know what to test for.
I have trained in dance for most of my life. From the beginning, my entire training philosophy was built on a single piece of advice from my instructors: “go full out”. Everyone told me to put 100% of my energy into every move. And if you can’t, just train harder.
I followed that advice religiously. But eventually, I hit a wall. I was doing everything they told me to do - training more, pushing harder - but I wasn't getting better. I felt like I had reached the absolute peak of my ability. And that was it.
But then, I changed my environment. I started training with some of the greatest dancers in the world - people at the global level.
And my new instructors told me to do less.
“Don't hit every move,” they said. “Place it.”
It went against everything I knew. In my old world, this was considered laziness. But in their world, it was the secret. For them, mastery wasn’t about intensity; it was about contrast.
Because when you place a move - quietly and precisely - you create silence. And that silence is what makes the hits land 10 times harder.
I didn't get better at dancing by dancing more. I got better by understanding a different frame of reference. My old environment had built a ceiling I couldn't see, and the only way to break through was to go somewhere different.
This is how we all get stuck. Your current frame of reference - the one you were given by your family, your teachers, and your peers - has a built-in ceiling.
If you grew up in a world where “fine dining” equals French food, then when someone asks you to list cooking techniques, you will probably start with braising and sautéing. But you might not even think to mention nixtamalization or tempering spices - even if tacos and dhal are your favourite foods.
Mexican and Indian cuisines exist in a black box inside your head. They are invisible options.
We do this with our lives too.
We think the path is: school -> degree -> corporate job -> retire -> die. We might hate that path, but we stay on it because the alternative isn't just scary - it’s invisible. We are trying to cook a curry using French techniques, and wondering why it tastes wrong.
This ceiling is not a flaw. It’s a feature of every individual frame of reference - every point of view is limited. When you’re looking at a sculpture from the right side, you simply cannot see the left. You can only infer.
But you cannot think your way out of this. If you want to know what the sculpture looks like from the opposite angle, you have to move to the other side.
So if you feel stuck, ask yourself this - are you staring at an old map, trying to find a new country?
If you are, fold it up. Change your environment. Find the people who think so differently that their advice sounds wrong at first. They’re the ones who can open the black boxes and show you the ceiling you can't see on your own.
The exit isn't visible from where you're standing. So go stand somewhere else.
Rooting for the real you,
Hanna from Pulse
