I’ve met incredibly talented people who started with all the energy in the world. They had good ideas, solid projects, and often even more preparation than I had when I started.
But, for some reason, they stopped halfway. Some because the results took longer than they expected, others because they became frustrated with the difficulties, and some simply because they lost their purpose.
And it was by observing these stories that I learned one of the hardest lessons—many people don’t fail because of a lack of ability, but because they give up too soon.
The truth is that success is rarely linear. The journey of building something requires resilience much more than genius.
The problem is that we live in a time when everything needs to be fast—the result, the recognition, the validation.
But what truly has value takes time. And that time, between effort and reward, is what separates those who continue from those who stop.
It is in this space of uncertainty that many give up, thinking that nothing is happening, when, in fact, the roots are silently growing.
When I started my business in Ireland, I also thought about giving up more than once. There were phases of doubt, of making mistakes, of learning what I didn’t know, and of starting over from scratch.
But I realized that each obstacle brought a different kind of maturity—and that progress is not always immediately visible.
Sometimes, it happens internally, in the way we react, decide, and deal with adversity. Growing requires patience with the process, and that is something the modern world has forgotten how to cultivate.
Observing those who gave up too soon taught me that the difference between success and frustration is often a matter of silent persistence.
The kind that no one sees, but that you practice every day. I’ve seen brilliant people abandon incredible projects at the exact moment they were about to succeed—because fear, exhaustion, or comparison with others spoke louder.
What they didn’t realize is that the discomfort that precedes progress is a natural part of every great achievement.
I also learned that giving up, sometimes, isn’t the problem—the problem is giving up without having learned anything.
There are times when you need to change course, yes, but never your purpose. And it is this purpose that needs to be the guiding principle, even when everything seems uncertain. Persistence is not stubbornness; it is confidence in the process, even when the result has not yet appeared.
Today, when I see someone about to give up, I usually say: “hang in there a little longer.”
Not because blindly believing solves everything, but because, often, what you seek is one step beyond giving up.
The journey is tiring, but the regret of not having tried hard enough is much worse.
