It was peak memecoin season. On Telegram and Dexscreener, the euphoria was total. A token had just been launched with an absurd name and a funny mascot.
I put in 100 $, almost just for laughs.
In a few hours, the chart turned vertical:
+500 % on waking up.
+2 000 % in the afternoon.
8 000 $ displayed on my screen the following evening.
My brain short-circuited. I no longer saw $100 turning into $8,000—I saw my $8,000 turning into $100,000. Friends told me, “Take your gains, pull your stake!”
But greed had completely numbed me. I refused to sell, convinced the token would be listed on the biggest exchanges in the world and change my life.
Then, in the span of 15 seconds, everything flipped.
A massive sell-off by the project’s creator (rug pull), the liquidity pool drained, and an endless red candle that sliced across the screen. My balance dropped to 12 $.
I had the chance to walk away with 8 000 $ in my pocket, and I ended up empty-handed, with the shame of having acted like a casino player instead of an investor.
This misadventure taught me strict rules for ultra-speculative assets:
Take your initial stake immediately: When a token does x2 or x3, secure your original capital. Trading with the market’s money removes 90 % of emotional stress.
Memecoins are a game of musical chairs: They’re not long-term investments. The moment the music stops, the 99 % of participants become exit liquidity for the insiders.
An unrealized gain is just a number: Until you’ve clicked Swap to USDT or withdrawn to your account, you own nothing but a volatile promise.
Discipline beats greed: Knowing how to get out too early with profits will always make you richer than trying to get out at the absolute top.
Today, if I touch a memecoin, it’s with capital that I already consider lost 100 %, and with an automatic exit plan defined in advance.
Have you ever seen a monumental gain collapse to zero on a memecoin due to pure greed? Tell us your worst reversal in the comments.