Watching AMD break through $600 and step into a trillion-dollar market cap—at that moment, I felt a whirlwind of emotions.
In 2019, $30 AMD was the first U.S. stock I bought in my life. Still in college, I held onto only $3,000 with great anticipation, and bought 100 shares. Back then, I didn’t understand anything. I only bought it because I liked the name—AMD, Advanced Micro Devices. It sounded so powerful and cool.
From $30 onward, every wave of movement, I bought: 100, 150, 200. I even bought from 140 to 210, feeling quite smug—then, right after that, the 2025 tariff war came, and I ended up selling everything from 160 down to 80 in despair and torment.
There was also Micron Technology in 2024—around $70. It “exploded” on earnings, so it surged to $90. I was in a hurry to take profits, thinking shallowly that storage was just a cyclical industry. In the AI boom, I assumed it was only a side character, something secondary. I never expected that afterward I would never be able to catch up to its pace.
Those years, I never had a moment of peace.
News kept belittling it, and all kinds of “xhs stock gods” mocked it:
“Why buy AMD? A perennial runner-up—what makes you think you can go head-to-head with NVIDIA?! Micron isn’t just a seller of cyclical memory—what does it have to do with core AI?"
Back then, when NVIDIA’s market cap hit a historic $5 trillion milestone, AMD—the industry’s runner-up—only had a pathetic $200 billion. And yet, inside, I always believed AMD would reach a trillion-dollar market cap.
But in the end, amid endless doubts and noise, I wavered. I started doubting. In one “smart” trading cycle after another, I handed over all my cheap shares with my own hands.
We always think we lost to the market. But really, we just lost to ourselves.