Becoming a licensed doctor takes years of study.
Building a physique like Arnold Schwarzenegger takes discipline in the kitchen and pain in the gym.
Climbing Mount Everest means facing 29,000 feet of thin air and no shortcuts.
The pattern is obvious.
If you want to go up,
you have to give something up.
But here is the harder question.
So how do I go up?
And maybe more uncomfortable:
What should I be willing to give up?
On your early 20s, that question feels real.
Do I give up sleep to study more?
Do I give up weekends to build skills?
Do I give up comfort to chase something uncertain?
Because if I keep doing the same things,
I will probably keep getting the same results.
I have read that growth does not happen when things are easy.
Muscles grow when they are torn.
Minds grow when they are challenged.
Confidence grows when it survives embarrassment.
You do not get stronger lifting feathers.
You do not get sharper repeating what you already know.
You do not move forward staying where it feels safe.
So maybe the issue is not talent.
Maybe it is trade-offs.
Maybe going up means:
Giving up distractions.
Giving up ego.
Giving up the need to always look good.
Giving up excuses.
Maybe it means choosing long-term growth over short-term comfort.
I realize something.
Every person I admire gave something up.
Time.
Ease.
Popularity.
Certainty.
Not because they liked suffering.
But because they wanted something more.
So maybe that is the real equation.
If I want a better version of my life,
I need to become a better version of myself.
And that version probably costs something.
Comfort is cheap.
Growth is expensive.
And the higher you want to go,
the more you have to leave behind.
So here is what I am asking myself:
What am I still holding on to
that is keeping me where I am?
Maybe going up is not about adding more.
Maybe it is about letting go.
Because the view is only worth it
if you were willing to climb.