How I Became an Anti-Fragile Person

Enjoy When You Are Winning, Ignore When You Are Losing

My fingers flew across the keyboard, heart pounding as I fired off another reply on X. “Ronaldo’s better than Messi, and you know it,” I typed, defending my idol against a flood of fans praising Lionel Messi’s latest goal.

In my early twenties, this was my world—endless online debates, desperate to prove Cristiano Ronaldo, the underdog, was the greatest. I didn’t realize how much of my identity was wrapped up in his success. A lot of people do this—hinge their self-worth on something totally out of their control: a sports star, a job title, likes on a post.

But that obsession cost me more than I expected.

Eventually, it broke me. And rebuilding myself taught me something better: how to enjoy wins, take losses in stride, and focus on what I can actually control.

My Obsession with Ronaldo and Identity Crisis

Back then, I was a die-hard Ronaldo fan. I didn’t have a TV, so I lived through X posts, highlight clips, and late-night arguments in the replies.

Every Ballon d’Or win for Messi felt like a personal attack. I’d stay up late, typing out why Ronaldo’s work ethic beat Messi’s talent, getting buried under replies. The debates never ended, but I kept fighting. Like Ronaldo’s legacy was mine to defend.

The truth is, I didn’t have much going on for myself. I borrowed his story as a placeholder for my own. When he won, I felt like I won. When he lost, it cut deep.

The illusion shattered in December 2022. Messi won the World Cup. I sat in my room scrolling, post after post, each one rubbing it in. That night, I felt like a loser too.

If he was second-best, what did that make me?

That hit forced me to face it: my identity was built on shaky ground. Maybe yours is too. Ever felt crushed because your favorite team lost? Or because someone didn’t like your post? It’s a brutal way to live.

What Is an Anti-Fragile Identity

After the World Cup, it hit me just how fragile I’d been. Every time Ronaldo fell short or the internet crowned Messi, I fell apart.

I needed to change that.

I wanted to be like a muscle—something that gets stronger with strain. That’s when I stumbled across the idea of an anti-fragile identity.

Fragile means every hit breaks you. That was me.

Anti-fragile means hits make you better. It’s about grounding your identity in things you control: your effort, your growth, your values.

I tested it with football first. Still celebrated Ronaldo’s goals. But when he lost, I moved on. It didn’t change my life. So why should it ruin my day?

On X, I stopped doomscrolling the hate and just focused on the stuff that made me smile. That wasn’t denial. It was peace.

An anti-fragile identity isn’t built on status, outcomes, or other people’s opinions. It’s built on what you do with what you get.

Ask yourself: what’s your identity tied to? If it’s something you can’t control, it’s probably holding you back.

Focusing on What I Can Control

This mindset didn’t just apply to football. It reshaped how I handled everything else.

A few years ago, I was job hunting with almost no savings left. Every “We regret to inform you” email hit like a gut punch. I kept replaying the rejections, asking myself what I did wrong.

It felt just like that Messi win. Out of my hands. Still felt like my fault.

Then I remembered the lesson. I couldn’t control hiring managers. But I could tighten up my resume. I could ask for feedback. I could send one more cold email a day.

And that’s what I did.

Small wins—like a recruiter replying or polishing a cover letter—started to matter. They were mine. They built me up.

Rejections still came, but I didn’t let them define me. They were just signals to course-correct.

Same applies everywhere else. Picture Sarah, a student who bombed an exam. Instead of obsessing, she studies smarter and asks her professor for help. Or John, passed over for a promotion. He takes a course and builds new skills, not for his boss, but for himself. Or Emma, dealing with cruel comments online. She tunes them out and keeps posting what she actually enjoys.

It’s the same idea.

These days, I’ll smile at a Ronaldo goal, then scroll past the next loss. In life, I celebrate real progress—a kind word from a friend, finishing a project. That’s what sticks.

Now think of something you’ve been stuck on—a loss, a moment, a comment.

What’s one action you can take today? One thing within your control?

That’s where your attention should go.

That’s anti-fragility.

You enjoy the highs. You learn from the lows. And you stay centered in what’s yours.

I’m not the guy losing sleep over Messi vs. Ronaldo anymore.

I’m just someone who knows what to hold onto—and what to let go.