Road To Forge

Tag: self-discovery

  • Two Months Is a Newborn Baby

    By Bogdan — RoadToForge

    There is something I have noticed about the way people approach new things.

    They start. They work hard for a few weeks. And then — when the results do not come immediately — they stop. They tell themselves it is not working. That they are not cut out for it. That maybe it was a bad idea after all.

    What they do not realise is that two months in — you are a newborn baby.

    Think about your job for a moment.

    When you started any job you have ever had — did you walk in on day one expecting to be exceptional? Did you give yourself two months and then quit because you were not yet the best person in the building?

    Of course not.

    You went there to learn. To earn. To grow slowly over time. You gave it years without even thinking about it. You showed up every day and you got better gradually without putting a deadline on it.

    But when we start something creative — a YouTube channel, a business, a new skill — suddenly we expect results in weeks. One month in and we are checking the numbers obsessively. Two months in and we are questioning everything. Three months in and if we have not seen dramatic results we are already thinking about giving up.

    Why do we do that?

    We would never quit a job after two months because we were not yet the best employee. But we quit creative projects constantly for exactly that reason.

    The gym is a perfect example.

    Two months of training and you feel better. You are sleeping better. Your energy is higher. But you look in the mirror and the dramatic change is not yet visible. Most people stop at exactly this point.

    But the people who stay — one year, two years, three years — they become unrecognisable from where they started. Not because they had special talent. Because they refused to quit before the results had time to arrive.

    The milestones.

    I think about progress in milestones. Real ones. Honest ones. Not the ones social media would have you believe in.

    The two month milestone — you are a newborn baby. You can barely lift your head. Everything is new and overwhelming. Results? None visible yet. But the foundation is being laid whether you can see it or not. Nobody looks at a two month old baby and says — why is it not walking yet? Why is it not talking? This is clearly not working. And yet we say exactly that about everything else we start.

    The six month milestone — the first real step. You are starting to sit up. Starting to recognise what works and what does not. The first signs that something is genuinely developing. This is the first big hurdle. Most people never reach it. The ones who do start to feel something shift.

    The one year milestone — first steps. Wobbly. Uncertain. But moving forward independently now. You have made enough mistakes to start avoiding the obvious ones. You can feel yourself improving even when the numbers do not yet show it.

    The two year milestone — running. Not perfectly. Still falling sometimes. But genuinely moving with confidence now. Real visible improvement. People who knew you at the start can see the difference clearly.

    The three year milestone — this is where it becomes real. This is where the gap opens permanently between you and everyone who quit at month two. You are talking in full sentences now. Communicating clearly. People can see who you are becoming.

    Every single thing I have ever learned in my life has followed this exact pattern.

    When I started boxing I barely knew how to hold my hands up for the first few months. Raw. Awkward. Getting it wrong constantly. Even at the six month milestone I was still a baby. I had just barely started to grasp the basics. A very raw understanding of how things worked. Nothing more.

    Judo was the same.

    And truck driving. I have been a truck driver for eleven years now. Eleven years. But I remember clearly what the six month milestone felt like. Driving a large truck through Central London. Tight streets. Busy junctions. Heart racing. Genuinely nervous. Still making mistakes. Still shaky in difficult situations.

    Now I drive through Central London without even thinking about it. The decisions happen automatically. The instincts are built in. What once felt impossible now feels completely natural.

    But it took eleven years to get here. And at two months I was a complete newborn.

    In trucking most companies require three years of experience before they trust you with their vehicles. Not six months. Not one year. Three years. Because they know that under three years you are still making expensive mistakes. Insurance costs more for drivers under three years for exactly this reason.

    After the three year milestone something fundamental changes. The experience is in your hands. In your instincts. In how you read situations before they become problems.

    I am building a children’s educational cartoon channel right now.

    I started a few months ago with no experience. No technical background. No team. Just a phone and a determination not to watch another opportunity pass me by.

    I am around two months in now.

    And already — even as I write this — my brain plays tricks on me some days. Maybe this is pointless. Maybe I am wasting my time. I am improving but I am not seeing the results I hoped for yet.

    And I catch myself doing what most people do at this stage — blaming outside things. The algorithm. The platform. The timing. Anything external. When the honest truth is simply that I have not been in the game long enough yet. I have not put in enough time. I am still a newborn.

    So let me be honest with you. As much as I am writing this for you — I am writing it for myself.

    We all go through this. Every single person who has ever started something new has had those days where the brain whispers that it might be pointless. That the results should have come by now.

    They should not have come by now. It has been around two months. You are still a newborn.

    My first episode was rough. Really rough. But I posted it anyway. And I kept going. The gap between episode one and episode eleven is already significant. And I am still only at the two month milestone. If the quality has improved this much in two months — just imagine what three years looks like.

    Something is starting to click.

    If you are at the two month milestone of something new — something you genuinely believe in — stay.

    Think about it honestly. You would not quit a job after two months. You would not leave the gym after six weeks because the mirror has not changed yet.

    So why are you expecting this to be different?

    Reach the six month milestone first. Then aim for one year. Then two. Then three.

    The people who reach the three year milestone are simply the ones who refused to quit at two months.

    Nobody becomes exceptional quickly. They just stay longer than everyone else.

    Two months is a newborn baby.

    Give it time.

    — Bogdan

  • The Day I Stopped Waiting and Started Building

    By Bogdan — RoadToForge

    “It is easy to write verses when you have nothing to say, stringing together empty words that only rhyme at the end.”
    — Mihai Eminescu, Romania’s greatest poet

    This quote came to mind when I sat down to think about what to write next. I wanted to make sure I had something real to say — something worth your time. So I decided to share what I am currently doing, and the thoughts behind it. Because looking back at my life, I realise there is a pattern worth talking about. A pattern I am only now beginning to break.

    Here we go.

    I’ve been watching the world change my whole life. And doing nothing about it.

    I remember the first internet cafes in Romania — Counter-Strike with friends, long evenings, no responsibilities. Then a platform called Metacafe, before YouTube existed, where people shared short videos online. Around 2006 and 2007, the first Ronaldinho skill videos were circulating everywhere. Everyone was watching them. YouTube was just finding its feet, and something in me stirred. I thought — I could make something. I could put something out there.

    I didn’t.

    Then Bitcoin arrived. People I knew were talking about it early, and I understood what it was. I could see the direction it was heading. I told myself I would look into it properly. I never did.

    Podcasting was next. Nobody in Romania was doing it when Joe Rogan was still building his audience. I had stories. I had opinions. I had a voice. The barrier to entry was almost nothing — just a phone and the courage to press record.

    I never pressed record.

    Looking back, the pattern is painfully clear. Every time an opportunity arrived, I would think seriously about it, then slowly, quietly, talk myself out of it. Too late. Wrong time. Not ready. Not equipped.

    Fear dressed up as practicality. That is all it ever was.

    Here is something I have kept to myself until now.

    When I was about ten years old, my teacher asked us to write a composition. I wrote about my life — my mother passing away when I was very small, growing up with my father and siblings in a small mining community in Romania.

    The teacher loved it. She published it in the school newspaper. Ten out of ten, with a star. Best in the school.

    I always had a talent for writing. I just never did anything with it.

    I had heard of blogs over the years but always assumed they were for someone else — a trend from the early internet that had come and gone. It never occurred to me that ordinary people with real stories and genuine things to say could build something meaningful through writing.

    Then I realised blogs never really died. People still read honest writing. You can build something real and lasting from words alone. And I thought — not again. I am not watching this one pass me by too.

    So I made a decision. And for once in my life, I acted on it.

    So I started moving.

    When AI arrived, I felt something I had not felt in years — that quiet recognition that something important was happening, and that this time I was not going to stand on the sidelines and watch.

    I started building an AI generated educational project for young children. From my phone. While driving a truck. With three kids at home, no budget, no team, and no guarantee it would work.

    And I started writing. This blog. These articles. With the same talent that earned a star in a Romanian classroom when I was ten years old.

    Is any of it working? Honestly, I do not know yet. It is too early to say. But it exists. I built it. And that is the difference between now and every time before.

    For years, the gap between having an idea and acting on it was where everything died. My brain was very good at finding reasons — sensible, reasonable sounding reasons — and I was very good at listening to them.

    Not anymore.

    Maybe I am too late with all of this. Maybe not. But for the first time in a long time, I am finally building instead of watching.

    And if any of this sounds familiar, if you have ever talked yourself out of something you knew was worth trying, then maybe you are ready to start building too.

    The road is moving. And so am I.

    See you in the next one.

    — Bogdan