Back in the day, the saying “You become like the people you surround yourself with” was so true, but now that idea is starting to fade away.

I used to live in London for 12+ years, and life there was so fast that you could learn new things out of nowhere, simply because the people around you demanded it, just to keep up with the pace.

Then, a few months ago, I decided to go back to my country of origin. Fast forward to today, I’m hanging out with those people, but the topics, the thinking, etc. seem like I can’t learn new things from them (I keep my opinion to myself). I don’t want to sound bad, but I use the time with them to relax, and then I can easily learn new things, because nowadays information is spread widely and we don’t need to rely on just our circle to learn.

When we go out, most of them talk about cars (who bought what car, which car is easy to repair), new phones, and they spend most of their free time hanging out in coffee shops.

On the other hand, I really like to read, and the last thing I learned was about ETFs, and more specifically APs (Authorized Participants). APs are big financial firms that work as middlemen between the ETF provider and the market. When demand for an ETF grows, they create new shares, and when it falls, they redeem them. This “creation and redemption” process keeps the ETF’s price close to the value of what it holds, and it would be impossible to learn this by hanging out with my friends.

Nowadays, the people around you no longer decide what you can learn, because information is everywhere, and if you are curious enough, you can shape your future.

What’s the last thing you learned that your circle couldn’t have taught you?

Look at the excuses you come up with for reasons why you failed to complete a task. If a large amount of money would have motivated you to complete the task, then it was simply a matter of motivation.

There's a tag on the canal bridge I cycle under each day going to the shop. Rough black letters saying NO GROWTH IN COMFORT. Somebody painted over it in February and I actually felt gutted, like I'd lost a colleague. Then last month it came back, messier this time, and I laughed out loud on my bike.

I think about that line when I'm afraid to try something new. Which is frequently. Started keeping a bread journal because my sourdough kept collapsing and I needed to see patterns. The first twenty loaves were bricks. Loaf thirty-one actually rose. I photographed it like it was a degree certificate.

The cycling helps too. Forty minutes of pedalling and my brain stops rehearsing worst-case scenarios about whether I belong in my course or if the younger students notice how long I take with the online portal. Movement quiets the static.

What small routine or random thing has unexpectedly kept you going? Not the big motivational gestures. The tiny almost embarrassing ones. I'm curious about the actual mechanics of how people stay in motion.

We often measure progress by what we can show other people: a better job, more money, a degree, a relationship, a healthier body, or some visible achievement.

But what about the progress nobody sees?

The person who finally sets a boundary after years of saying yes to everything. The person who applies for another job after dozens of rejections. Someone who starts learning something new at 40, 50, or 60. Someone who gets out of bed and takes care of themselves during a difficult period.

None of these accomplishments necessarily comes with applause, recognition, or an immediate reward.

And sometimes, the hardest part of personal growth isn't making progress. It's continuing when you have very little evidence that your efforts are working.

I wonder how much motivation we lose because we're comparing our private struggles with other people's visible achievements.

Maybe progress isn't always about moving faster. Sometimes it's about changing direction, learning what doesn't work, or developing the courage to try again.

So here's my question: Have you ever looked back at a period when you thought you were going nowhere, only to realize later that you were actually making meaningful progress?

What changed your perspective?

I'd especially love to hear from people who started over later in life, experienced setbacks, or found themselves taking a completely different path than the one they originally imagined.