Is it true that big money is just luck? My answer is somewhere in the middle. It’s really hard to make it in business without luck, but if you bet only on luck, you’ve already lost.

Look at crypto investors or day traders with their stories of sudden wealth. A guy invested his last money in a coin, it skyrocketed, and he made two hundred thousand in a week. Now he walks around bars like a hero and believes he has caught a lucky streak forever. But this is just a regular casino in digital packaging.

What happens next? He continues to play, confident in his genius, and in a month, he has nothing left because he has no knowledge base to fall back on.

I love the old saying: “You can drink away your intelligence, but you can never drink away your experience.” At the beginning of your journey, you have to work with your hands and learn the hard way at every step.

When success becomes a trap for an entrepreneur

I started my career in business very early, when I was only twenty years old. In 2004, I received an exclusive contract to distribute Polaroid safety glasses throughout Ukraine. For four years in a row — in 2005, 2006, 2007, and 2008 — I received the prestigious “Best Distributor in the World” award.

Imagine the scale: my main competitors worked throughout the expansive territory of Russia, where nine large distributors operated simultaneously, while I was alone in Ukraine and sold as much as all of them combined.

By the age of thirty, I was already a dollar millionaire with all the trappings of that status, and it was at this stage that I made a fatal mistake: I lost focus on my core business. I suddenly decided I was a true business genius and could handle everything I took on with finesse.

I began to spread myself too thin across many completely different areas at once: modern vision diagnostics centers, expensive Japanese cosmetics and exclusive Indonesian furniture. I had about ten different areas going on at the same time, and in this chaotic routine, I stopped keeping track of my main business. A little later, in 2008, the global financial crisis hit, and my many years of success began to diminish rapidly before my eyes, while my priorities and surroundings commenced to evolve.

Two hundred dollars and a complete clean-up of my surroundings

After the first fateful turn, I tried to get back on my feet. I decided to go to Dubai and start from scratch. My two closest friends saw me off at the Kyiv airport. At the last minute, they found out I had no money, so they ran to the nearest currency exchange, exchanged all their hryvnia, and handed me $220 in cash. That was my entire starting capital for a new life in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

But the scariest thing for me was not the lack of money, but the silence from the people around me. Before I left Ukraine, many people said nice things to me: “Kostya, come on, you’re a cool entrepreneur, you have such huge potential, we can do great projects together.”

As soon as all these people found out I had come to Dubai without any capital, no one in this circle answered my calls. As pompous as the comparison may sound, this is like dirty boots after a walk. When the mud dries, it falls off in chunks. That is how 99% of my so-called friends fell away. Only my parents and a couple of loyal people remained.

I started working at factories to survive and gain my footing, then I got involved in international logistics. It seemed everything was gradually falling into place, with warehouses opening in New York, Seoul and Guangzhou. But then came 2014 with the start of hostilities, and my cargo, worth several million dollars, was blocked at the Donetsk airport.

Why real experience cannot be lost

And there I was in the sweltering heat of Dubai. Did I pray for money to fall from the sky? Did I sit around visualizing a red Ferrari the way so many success gurus preach? No. I went to work — literally, with my hands — doing the simplest job I could find.

Just days earlier, I had been a dollar millionaire, smoking expensive Cuban cigars in restaurants. Now I was standing in a stuffy warehouse in the emirate of Sharjah, where the temperature hit 56 degrees. I wrapped endless cardboard boxes in packing tape, loaded them into an old minibus, and drove them across the city to the airport myself.

So why did I succeed in the end? Why, after only six months, did I once again become one of the largest international carriers in the United Arab Emirates? It was because I drew on everything I had learned over years in the industry. I could see immediately what others missed: the local logistics market was painfully inefficient. Competitors took twelve to fourteen working days to clear standard cargo through customs.

I found a way to do it in two to three days — maximum — by delivering what the market was desperate for: real speed and reliable service.

The orange and peach effect

Now I want to talk about what matters most: the psychology of money and success.

Why do so many people never achieve what they truly want? Why do they tread water for years, working hard but going nowhere? Because they lie to themselves about their real desires.

I call this the orange-and-peach effect, and it explains what’s happening in most people’s heads.

A person walks through life telling everyone, “I want an orange.” A calm, stable life. Marriage. Kids. A predictable paycheck. They repeat it because it’s socially acceptable — because it fits the script their culture rewards.

But late at night, alone with their thoughts, they dream of a peach. Their own business. Risk. Big outcomes. Real freedom of choice.

That gap creates a silent but devastating internal split. Outwardly, you declare one goal. Inwardly, all your energy, ambition, and imagination pull you toward another. Until you admit — honestly and without apology — “Yes, I want risk. I don’t care about stability. I want to build something big,” you’ll keep sabotaging yourself. Internal contradiction blocks external success.

The opposite is just as destructive. Some people force themselves to play the role of the hard-charging entrepreneur when, deep down, they want peace, simplicity, and a small life. Even if they make millions, they remain unhappy — because they chased the wrong fruit.

Clarity is everything.

Be honest about what you actually want. Then roll up your sleeves. Start small. Master your craft. Become undeniable in your field.

When luck eventually knocks — and it always does — you won’t just recognize the moment. You’ll be ready to take it.