At the start, I used to think the chart was the enemy.
Too fast. Too slow. Too confusing. Always doing the opposite of what I expected. I stared at candles for hours, convinced that if I looked harder, the answer would show up. But most of the time, the chart didn’t break me. My head did.
Fear shows up before the move even starts. You hesitate, price runs without you, and suddenly greed takes over. You jump in late, knowing it’s late, pretending it isn’t. Then one small pullback feels like the end of the world. Hands shake. Logic disappears. The chart stays the same, but your thoughts don’t.
There were days I won small and felt smart. Too smart. Confidence quietly turned into carelessness. I took trades I wouldn’t even explain to myself. When they failed, I blamed the market. When they worked, I took credit. That cycle repeated more times than I want to admit.
Losses didn’t hurt the most. Regret did. Closing too early. Holding too long. Watching price do exactly what I expected, just without me in it. The chart never mocked me. My own expectations did.
Over time, something shifted. Not suddenly. Slowly. I realized the chart wasn’t testing my strategy. It was exposing my impatience, my fear of missing out, my need to be right.
Funny thing is, the market stayed chaotic. I just stopped breaking first.
$YALA
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