On not giving up

Persistence, resilience, and tenacity have always been my defining traits. And, for a long time, it felt like a superpower. Proof that I could achieve anything through determination. But I learned the trap hidden inside that mindset: the illusion of control. In reality, there are many things I can’t control: other people’s choices, timing, and external forces. And when the outcome depends on more than one person, the limits of control become even clearer. If I ignore that, persistence can become a way of postponing difficult decisions.

There’s always a price to not giving up. Sometimes that price is giving up part of yourself, missing bigger opportunities, and staying attached to something that was built on the wrong foundation.

So next time I catch myself saying “I never give up”, I’ll pause and ask: am I pushing forward because I believe in success, or because I’m afraid of failure and the guilt that comes with it? If it’s guilt, I’ll look deeper. Often, it’s tied to a fear that not succeeding means I’m not good enough or valuable enough.

But what is success? Success isn’t only about outcomes; it’s also about showing up fully, doing your best, and staying aligned with what matters. More importantly, success is about learning. Sometimes the lessons you earn along the way end up mattering more than the outcome you were hoping for in the first place.

My decision framework

When something isn’t working, here’s what I ask myself before deciding on how to proceed:

• **Can I change my approach?**What can I do differently, specifically, starting now?
• Can the other people involved change theirs? Are they willing and capable of doing things differently, too?
• Am I willing to do the work? Do I actually have the energy and commitment it would take to change the trajectory?
• Could I live with the likely outcome? If I give this my best effort, will I be at peace with what’s realistically possible?

It’s really important to be honest with myself about what’s happening. My brain can justify either choice, keep going, or stop. But the real question is: am I making real progress, or am I delaying a hard decision? Most of the time, I already know the answer.

Finally, I do a sanity check for sunk cost. Instead of justifying staying just because I’ve already invested a lot, I ask:

• **What’s the worst that happens if I walk away? **
• If I give it one more year and nothing changes, will I wish I had stopped earlier?

Why we fear giving up

Fear of giving up often isn’t about the thing itself. It’s often about social stigma, reputation, and the worry that if you walk away once, you won’t be able to achieve something great again. But success requires more than determination and hard work. Those are necessary, not sufficient. Sometimes the variables don’t cooperate, and it’s still a win if you truly did everything you could.

Another trap is trying to “fix” something built on the wrong foundation. Hope is a hella drug. It’s tempting to believe one more action, one more push, will make it click. That can burn enormous energy while avoiding the deeper work: admitting what’s structurally broken and why the original decisions weren’t sound.

At a certain point, forcing it becomes a disservice to yourself. Not because quitting is noble, but because continuing can cost you time, clarity, and the chance to build something better on a stronger base.

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Last year taught me to focus on stronger foundations and to reinvest in what I once sidelined: my mental and physical health, my long-term goals, and the people who keep me grounded. I’m proud of how hard I worked, and even prouder of the clarity, humility, and balance I gained.