I was never supposed to end up in investing.
Growing up, money was something you worked for, not something you made work for you. My family was all about hard work—long hours, steady paychecks, and maybe, if you were lucky, a retirement fund. Investing? That was for other people. People born into wealth. People who spoke in stock tickers and real estate jargon. Not me.
But one night in New York changed everything.
It was late autumn, and I had just arrived in the city for a job interview. Not finance—something safer, more predictable. Something that wouldn’t keep me up at night wondering if I’d made the right call. I told myself I wasn’t the kind of person who took big risks. Stability was the goal. A steady paycheck, a nice apartment, and a job that wouldn’t consume me.
Then I saw the Chrysler Building.
I had passed by plenty of skyscrapers before, but this one was different. It wasn’t just tall—it was bold. It stood out from everything else around it, shining under the city lights, its Art Deco crown piercing the sky like a monument to ambition. It didn’t look like it belonged in the background. It demanded attention.
I stood there for a long time, staring up, caught in some strange mix of awe and frustration. I didn’t know why, but something about that building made me feel small—not in a bad way, but in a what am I doing with my life? kind of way.
I pulled out my phone and started reading about it. I learned that Walter P. Chrysler, the man behind it, had taken a massive risk to build it. He funded the entire project himself, refusing outside investors because he wanted complete control. At the time, people thought he was crazy. But he didn’t just want a building—he wanted his building. Something that would stand the test of time. Something permanent.
I realized right then that I had been thinking too small.
I had spent my whole life believing that success meant playing it safe. But here was this structure—a towering, undeniable symbol of risk, vision, and ambition—telling me otherwise.
That night, back in my cheap Midtown hotel room, I started researching investing. Not just the basics, but the people behind the biggest deals. I read about Warren Buffett, Sam Zell, and Ray Dalio—people who didn’t just earn money; they made their money move. They built things that lasted.
By morning, I knew.
I wasn’t going to take that safe job.
I was going to learn how to invest.
It wasn’t easy. The first few years were brutal—long nights, bad trades, lessons learned the hard way. I failed more times than I can count. But I kept going. Because once you see something like the Chrysler Building, you can’t unsee it.
You realize that some things in life aren’t about security.
They’re about legacy.
