A story about rebuilding from emotional ruin, debt, and losing the man I once was.
Three years ago, when I was 27, I felt like I was at my peak.
I trained regularly, had a good job, and was building a real business with a powerful woman in the offline world. I finally had that glimpse: “I made it.”
I even had a girlfriend — long distance, yes, but loving. She believed in me. Never doubted my words, always respectful, always kind. It was the most honest and peaceful relationship I’d ever experienced. I felt like that guy. The man who wins.
The one with a mission and a queen.
But things unraveled.
I took on debt for the business.
I wasn’t made co-founder.
I got betrayed.
Ended up 50k in the red.
And somewhere in that wreckage, I started pasting my shame and insecurity onto the woman who’d only ever been kind to me. I ruined it.
That was the day I stopped trusting people.
Even though she wasn’t the one who hurt me — she became part of that inner story.
The belief that everyone eventually leaves or uses you.
And for a long time, I thought I missed her.
But today, I realize: I didn’t miss the “success” I thought I had.
I didn’t even miss the “princess” I thought I lost.
I missed me.
The version of me that felt powerful, grounded, respected, and on fire.
The man who believed he was going somewhere.
That’s who I lost.
That’s who I’m slowly bringing back.
My real strength?
I’m still working off that debt.
June 25. Age 30. Still -35k.
No handouts. No miracles. Just sweat.
I believe in earning my freedom.
In my mind, I don’t deserve a shortcut — not until I’ve paid with effort.
So I show up.
I keep these anchors:
- Eat well
- Train hard
- Reflect honestly
- Educate myself
…but I also:
- Cheat here and there
- Miss workouts or coast through them
- Scroll to numb out sometimes
- Skip the podcast and watch YouTube instead
So yes, I’m working.
But I’m living, too.
Not like Goggins. Not all gas, no brakes.
I don’t need to be a robot.
Because when you’re a shattered wine glass, you can’t pour 400ml of wine into yourself and expect to hold it.
You glue one piece back.
Then the next.
Then the next.
That’s how I’m rebuilding discipline.
With humanity.
With self-respect instead of self-abuse.
What changed?
I stopped judging myself.
Stopped living in that mental cage.
And I started trusting that messy progress is still progress.
If you broke both legs, you’re not running a marathon in 30 days.
But you can walk again.
Then jog.
And one day — if you still want to — you’ll run again.
That’s my story. Not a dramatic comeback.
Just a man finding his way back to himself.
And maybe that’s enough.
Firat Akbas 
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