This Is the Most Dangerous Game I’ve Ever Played

I’ve always hated gambling.

I remember being a kid, walking into those smoky bars to buy scratch cards for my dad. The lights, the noise, the perceived sense of vain hope in the air, it all made my stomach twist.

And whenever friends invited me to the casino for “just a bit of fun,” I’d go along, but something in me always recoiled. I used to watch people gamble, clinging to hope that deep down felt pointless, because in the end, the house usually wins.

So yes, gambling was never my thing.
And for the longest time, I told myself:

“I will never be someone who gambles.”

But then the other day, I was listening to Rigging the Game by Dan Nicholson, and one sentence hit me like a slap:

“Building a business is the highest form of gambling.”

I paused.

And I couldn’t help but think… Wait. That’s exactly what I’m doing.

So how come I never saw it that way?

Unlike those scratch cards or casino nights, I’m not betting a few spare coins, I’m betting my entire life. Every day, I wake up and throw myself into a business that doesn’t promise anything:

No guaranteed salary.

No fixed hours.

No map, except the one I design, day by day.

There are no rules, except the ones I make up as I go. I can plan, sure, but I never really know what next month will bring, who will say yes or no, or how many plates I’ll need to keep spinning just to stay in the game.

So why doesn’t this feel like gambling?

Why don’t I feel the same anxiety I used to feel walking past people playing the slot machines? Why am I calm, even excited, about a risk that, technically, is way bigger?

Maybe it’s because this version of the gamble is mine.

In this game, I’m not a pawn.
I’m the one setting the board.
I choose the risk. I build the strategy.
And most of all, I own the reward.

And yes, there’s a rush.

That moment when a client says yes.
When the first invoice gets paid.
When a project goes live and it works.

That spark of excitement, that dopamine hit, is real.
It’s not the thrill of randomness.
It’s the thrill of seeing your bet on yourself start to pay off.

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And yet…

There are days when running your own business is exhausting.
Days when I ask myself, “Why am I even doing this?”

When you send proposals and get no reply.
When someone says they see the value in what you do, but still choose another agency.
When projects fall through for reasons completely out of your control.

I ask myself: Wouldn’t it just be easier to go back to a 9-to-5?

But then I reflect…
Could a 9-to-5 job be its own form of gambling too?

You bet your time.
Your energy.
Sometimes even your dreams.
In exchange for “security”, but is that security real?

What happens when the rules change and you weren’t the one writing them?

I don’t have a perfect answer. But I do know this:

I’d rather bet on myself, with all the unknowns, than play a game where the odds are rigged and I don’t even get to roll the dice.

And yes, I love to roll my own dice.

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Veronica,
Currently in Venice.

“Where light dances on the canals and every gondola knows its way home.“