Having traded for ten years, I've seen bizarre movements at 3 a.m., endured crazy fluctuations with 100x leverage, and surprisingly, the final crash came from the least expected place—emotions.

It all started with a recent experience. Some time ago, I met a girl. At first, it was just casual chatting to relax, but then I noticed her unique temperament and surprisingly professional understanding of the market (later I found out her background was quite different). I'm not someone overly insecure; with recent market accuracy, my real account profits have been steadily rising, so I confidently revealed my identity as a professional trader.

Unexpectedly, the opportunity came so suddenly. One evening, my real account hit a new high, reaching 130%. At that moment, I was truly floating on air, excitedly sharing my success with her, and subtly probing whether there was potential for further development.

Her response was just eight words: "You're very impressive, but we're not suitable."

That moment, I instantly woke up. What does it mean to be slapped in the face by reality? It’s exactly like this. I was still proud of the short-term gains, but in her eyes, that was just the monthly bonus level of an ordinary white-collar worker. The real gap in strength isn’t something that can be filled with a few market moves.

After my emotional explosion, I did the most unprofessional thing—trading with anger and disappointment. At that moment, only one twisted thought was in my mind: make enough money at Haidilao, then move on. I casually opened a short position on a mainstream coin, with no stop-loss, no analysis of K-line trends, just pure gambler’s mentality.

The market taught me a lesson in the most direct way. The trend reversed sharply against me, and my stop-loss was as if it never existed. That 130% account, which was once a highlight of my life, quickly turned into a negative under the influence of emotion. Making two rounds of Haidilao money? That’s far from enough.

Looking back now, this was not just a trading loss but a compulsory lesson on trading discipline. After ten years, still making such basic mistakes shows how deep the pit of cognition really is. A piece of advice to all peers: when you find yourself wanting to prove something or change something through trading, that’s the most dangerous signal. Stopping at this moment might be more valuable than continuing to trade.

Markets are always there, but your principal isn’t.