9:50 P.M.

At 9:50 p.m., after an hour of debating with myself, I sat up in bed and took my wife’s hand in mine.

“I’ll make a bet this time,” I said.

“I believe in you,” she said.

Then she added, “If you ask twenty people for advice, nineteen of them will tell you to wait. But in the end, no one can make this decision for you. You’re the only one who can make the call. Whatever you decide, I believe in you.”

The next day, I put in my two weeks’ notice.

I could have waited a few more weeks for my stock to vest and my bonus to pay out. I didn’t.

Holding her hand that night felt just like the first time I held her hand, on another night sixteen years earlier. The same nervous heart facing an unknown future.

But it was much heavier now. There was a mortgage to pay, loans to pay, and the kids’ tuition waiting ahead.

Still, there was that leap of faith. That feeling that this was the right call.

One year later, on the same day, I wrote down how it had gone.

A ton of discomfort.

A ton of growth.

No regrets.