I AM a failure
I failed many times in life. But that doesn't stop me.
I Am a Failure
Not the inspiring kind.
Not the “failure is success in progress” kind.
Just the regular kind.
The repeated kind.
The kind that quietly changes how you think.
If you map my life through outcomes, it looks unstable.
If you map it through direction, it makes perfect sense.
Most things did not work.
And almost everything useful came from that.
It didn’t arrive as a single lesson.
It came in phases.
In results that didn’t match the effort.
In plans that looked correct and still collapsed.
If I trace the pattern back, it starts with an exam that was supposed to decide everything.
The exam that was supposed to decide everything 🎯
For two years I lived inside a very simple flowchart:
Work hard → get rank → enter the next phase → become someone
The rank did not come.
No breakdown.
No dramatic moment.
Just a strange silence where the future that was supposed to arrive… didn’t.
Everyone else seemed to move forward on schedule.
I was left with time and a feeling I did not know how to name.
So I started building things.
Not as a career move.
Not as a master plan.
Mostly because doing nothing made the result louder in my head.
That is how the project phase of my life started.
Not from ambition.
From discomfort.
And in a very indirect way, that rank failure gave me something the rank never could have:
🚀 Ownership of direction
The startup that worked perfectly on paper ♻️
Mr. Junkyz looked like a complete system.
Users schedule a pickup.
Vendors collect waste.
We recycle.
We sell the recycled products.
We send the rest to factories.
Closed loop. Impact driven. Technically buildable.
We built the platform.
And then reality asked very boring questions:
- Where do the vendors come from?
- Who manages the logistics?
- Where does the waste get stored?
- Who is doing this at 6 AM?
We had built the digital layer of a business that was 80% physical.
That was the first time I understood this:
An idea can be correct and still be impossible for you.
Not wrong.
Just too heavy for your current life.
Since then, whenever something sounds exciting, I ask:
💭 What part of this cannot be solved with code?
The hackathons we did not win 🏆
Winning is loud for a day.
Losing stays.
Because after the results you sit with your own project in silence and see it clearly.
We were building for:
“This is cool.”
The winners were building for:
“This is useful.”
Small difference in words.
Massive difference in thinking.
We were optimising for intelligence.
They were optimising for clarity.
Now every idea goes through one brutal filter:
⚡ Can this be understood by someone who is half listening?
If not, it is not ready.
The interviews where I had the answers and still lost 💼
I was learning constantly.
Building constantly.
Solving things on my own.
And still hearing:
“We’ll get back to you.”
The problem was not knowledge.
The problem was this:
I was trying to sound complete.
Jumping to conclusions.
Compressing my thoughts.
Delivering final answers without showing the path.
The moment I started saying:
“This is how I’m thinking about it…”
everything changed.
Not my skill.
My honesty.
The people who did not come with me to the next version 🕰️
No one prepares you for this part.
Some people are perfectly aligned with a specific phase of your life.
Same routine.
Same pace.
Same energy.
Then the direction changes.
No event.
No ending.
Just less frequency.
Then memory.
For a long time I treated that like a personal failure.
Now I see it as a timestamp.
Some people belong to who you were.
The product that broke my way of building 🧠
This is the turning point.
We spent months building in private.
Serious work.
Late nights.
Real belief.
We had one rule:
Launch only when it is ready.
So every week:
One more feature.
One more redesign.
One more fix.
Inside our system → progress
Outside our system → nothing
No users.
No confusion.
No unexpected behaviour.
No resistance.
Just us. Perfecting something for people who had never seen it.
And then came the only question that mattered:
❗ Does anyone need this right now?
We did not have an answer.
That day rewired everything.
We had been:
- optimising assumptions
- protecting first impressions
- delaying reality
Since then:
🚀 I trust rough launches more than polished ones.
A slightly broken product in public teaches more in a day than a perfect product in private teaches in six months.
That product never became what we imagined.
But it changed:
- my speed
- my priorities
- my honesty
Everything I build today comes from that shift.
The invisible 200 🌙
If you scroll through my work, you are not seeing most of it.
The real number is above 200 projects.
Built at night.
Used once.
Never deployed.
Deleted.
Rewritten.
Abandoned halfway.
Individually → useless
Together → they removed the fear of starting
I do not wait for confidence anymore.
⚡ I start.
Confidence catches up.
The only real upgrade
Failure did not make me smarter.
It reduced recovery time.
Earlier → I would stop for weeks
Now → I pause for a day and open the editor again
The emotion is still there.
It just does not control the timeline.
Where I am now
Still building things that might not work.
Still applying where I might get rejected.
Still starting without guarantees.
But I know this pattern:
The worst phases of my life were not when things failed.
They were when I stopped making anything.
So when I say:
I am a failure
I do not mean it as a statement.
I mean it as a system.
Try.
Break.
Understand.
Repeat.
And if you look closely,
✨ That is not the opposite of success.
That is movement.