Midlife MavericksThe month they sell you the fantasy of skipping the work. Buy the work instead.
I opened my phone and lost it immediately. Ad after ad. Lose ten kilos in two days. Build a bodybuilder’s muscle in a month. Get rich overnight. Find the love of your life in a week.
We could only be in January. The month they contaminate everyone’s head with “get rich quick,” “fit quick,” and “happy quick.”
Wanting to improve is good. Wanting more health is good. Wanting more money is legitimate. Wanting love and peace is human. The problem is the rush. The belief in the miracle. The fantasy that you can skip the process, that you can reach the destination without walking, and that results exist without effort. The rule is simple. If it looks too good, it’s because it isn’t.
I get ill when I come across these ads, because every one of them creates a type of person who’s very dangerous to herself. The person who wants to run a marathon to say she ran a marathon, but doesn’t like running. Doesn’t like training. Doesn’t like spending six months in a preparation process.
There’s an old Portuguese saying. Whoever runs for the love of it doesn’t tire. Meaning the path still hurts, but the joy lives in the road, not the medal.
Result. She never gets anywhere.
And worse. She starts thinking the problem is her. When the problem is the expectation.
Rome and Pavia weren’t built in a day. And a life worth genuinely living isn’t either. You have to climb. You have to break stone. You have to sweat. Sometimes you also have to cry.
Without that, there’s no building. There’s only short bursts of enthusiasm and quick quitting.
If you only love the result, you’re done.
Because the result fails often. Life gets in the way. Motivation disappears. The body doesn’t cooperate. The market shifts. The head goes into survival mode.
If you love the effort, you’re free.
Because even when the result didn’t arrive, you moved. You grew, gained internal muscle, got better. You became more capable.
And nobody can take that from you.
That’s why I look at January with suspicion. I see people signing up for the gym as if the membership is the transformation. People wanting to leave jobs and start companies as if courage alone pays the bills. Others wanting to “change their lives” without wanting to change their habits.
Real change is boring. It’s repetitive and invisible for a long time. That’s why it works.
You know what makes me furious. We’re creating a tribe of weaklings.
People who quit at the first difficulty because nobody ever told them life is hard and hurts. Who think that if something isn’t working in two weeks, the method is the problem. When the problem is the lack of spine.
I spent 25 years building a career. 25 years. So many ups and downs. Day after day, doing the work, even when I didn’t feel like it, even when nobody was clapping, even when I thought I wasn’t getting anywhere.
And I got there.
But it took time.
And it hurt.
And that’s how it had to be.
When someone promises you a miracle in January, remember this. Real life isn’t made of miracles. It’s made of work. Sweat. Time.
And if that doesn’t sound sexy enough to you, do me a favour. Go back to Instagram. There’s always someone there selling you a fantasy.
Here there’s only reality.
Comment below. What’s the one “transformation in 30 days” promise you bought into, and how long did it actually take? I read every response.
This article was first published in Portuguese in my weekly column Oh pá, não me lixem! for Executiva.
