The Mental Update: Taking risks means accepting all outcomes

Whether it succeeds or fails, it's all part of your plan

Hey,

This week, I’ve been sitting with a lesson most of us learn the hard way:

We love the idea of risk, until it actually feels risky.

It’s so easy to tell ourselves we’ve “accepted the risk” when really, we’re just hoping it goes our way. But true growth? It’s not about controlling the outcome. It’s about stepping forward with both eyes open… and making peace with whatever happens next.

The pieces below dive into this tension between action and attachment.

They explore what it really means to take risks, why the payoff isn’t the result but who you become for showing up, and how to finally stop resenting the game you chose to play.

Whether you’ve been holding back from a bold move or wrestling with disappointment after one didn’t land, this week’s reflections are a call to move forward with clearer eyes, and a steadier heart.

You Didn’t Actually Accept the Risk

Why Your Frustration After Failing Is a Sign You Never Accepted the Risk

I used to write essays, pour hours into them, hit publish, and then sit there simmering when nobody read them.

I’d think, “After all this effort? How is nobody noticing?”

It felt like I’d been cheated. Like taking the risk of writing deserved some guaranteed reward.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth I had to face:

If I felt bitter when the risk didn’t pay off, I hadn’t actually accepted the risk.

I’d just been hoping to dodge it.

Taking a real risk means being just as prepared for failure as you are for success.

It means stepping forward without secretly negotiating with the universe for a safety net.

So when the risk doesn’t work out,

If your first instinct is outrage or self-pity?

That’s proof you never really took the risk.

You were trying to rig the game in your favor.

The real move is this:

When you take a risk, make peace with both outcomes before you act.

Not after.

Because success isn’t guaranteed.

But peace with the risk you’re taking?

That part is always in your control.

The Real Payoff of Taking Risks

Why the Reward Isn’t the Outcome, It’s Who You Become for Taking the Risk

For a long time, I thought the payoff for writing was the attention.

If people read my essays, it was worth it.

If they didn’t, I felt like I’d wasted my time.

I had it completely backwards.

The real payoff of taking a risk isn’t the outcome.

It’s who you have to become to take the risk in the first place.

When I finally let go of chasing likes, shares, or validation, I saw what I’d been missing:

I wasn’t writing to impress strangers.

I was writing to honor the commitment I’d made to myself.

And every time I followed through, whether anyone noticed or not,

I was proving to myself that I show up.

That I move forward even when there’s no applause.

That’s the person who wins over time.

The one who keeps their word when no one’s watching.

So if you’re feeling crushed by the outcome of a risk you took, stop and ask yourself:

What kind of person are you becoming by staying in the game?

Because that’s the reward.

And it’s worth more than any win you think you’re chasing.

How to Actually Accept the Risk

A Simple Practice to Stop Resenting the Risks You Take

Before I publish an essay, I say one sentence to myself:

"I accept that this might flop, be ignored, or even criticized , and I’m still proud I wrote it."

That’s it.

A one-line contract between me and reality.

Because I’ve learned the hard way:

If I don’t consciously accept the risk before I act, I’ll resent it when the risk plays out.

I’ll take it personally.

I’ll start thinking I’m owed a certain outcome.

But the moment I say that sentence, the grip loosens.

The fear shrinks.

The risk becomes just part of the process, not a personal verdict.

It’s a small practice, but it changes everything.

When you name the downside out loud and accept it before you move, the risk loses its power over you.

You stop bracing for impact.

You start creating with clarity and calm.

So before your next risk, whether it’s a post, a pitch, or a bold move ,

Say it:

"I accept this might flop, and I’m still proud I did it."

Then go.

Because the real failure isn’t taking a risk and losing.

It’s taking a risk and never really accepting that you did.

Which part of this week’s edition hit home for you? I’d love to hear, just hit reply and let me know.

Until next time, Daryl