I’m in the middle of a downswing right now.

Rebuys piling up. Variance doing its thing.
Four bullets gone in one tournament. Two in another.
And every time — I played it right.

Not perfectly. But with clarity, focus, and sound decisions.
And still, the hands didn’t hold. The flips didn’t flip.
The money bled. Slowly. Honestly. With nothing I could’ve done differently.

But here’s what’s starting to land:

When something does go well — when I run deep, when I hit a score,
I deserve it.
Not in an entitled way. Not because I’m owed.
But because I’ve earned it.

Not just through good play —
but through staying upright in the storm.

Poker, strangely, is becoming one of my deepest teachers.

It’s not just a game. It’s a mirror.
A test of patience, trust, self-worth.

And this time, when the win comes…
I won’t call it luck.

I’ll call it me.