The Day I Paid $10,000 for a Lesson

I was in my office, tucked away in our apartment, while my wife watched TV in the bedroom. My two monitors, side by side lit the room, as I sat convinced I had USD/JPY under control. I took buys, and when price slipped lower, I added. It dropped harder, so I added again.

Then the headline came. Negative news from the Bank of Japan hit the wires, and within moments the floor gave out. My charts turned red; one thousand down, then two, then five. My chest tightened as the numbers sank deeper, false hope kept me glued to the screen.

I felt sick, and for a long while I just sat there, trapped telling myself “it’s going to turn around.” Finally, I walked into the bedroom and told my wife. Her eyes carried the weight of the loss with me, and that shared acknowledgement gave me the strength I didn’t have on my own. I went back to the office, hit close, and watched the balance show -$10,000.

I texted my investors next that night. My hands shook as I explained what had happened, knowing they would see it in the morning. I didn’t sleep that night. That moment set me on a spiral of revenge trades, oversized positions, desperate attempts to claw back what had taken. But in the wreckage, lessons were waiting that still guide me today.

The market didn’t cost me $10,000 that night; walking away from my edge did. Trading isn’t about chasing feelings. It’s about running a system with discipline until the math just works. The edge only works if you stay with it. The moment you improvise, the advantage you built vanishes.

That night I wasn’t just trading yen. I was trading my hopes and dreams. I tied my dreams of freedom and validation to one position, which is why the loss crushed me. When a single trade carries that much weight, the outcomes distort your emotions and your wins feel euphoric, and the losses feel devastating. Neither is healthy. Trading is not a fantasy, it’s steady repetition.

The voices of investors added fuel to the fire. Their excitement and encouragement to size up is when I pushed bigger size, outside my rules allowed. Their disappointment after the loss and desire to get it back pulled me into revenge trades. In the end, it was their money on the line and my discipline. The market doesn’t bend for cheers or criticism. If you don’t quiet the voices, you’ll make decisions for all the wrong reasons.

The deepest wound on top of losing investor capital, was believing that money defined me. When it slipped away, I felt like my value slipped too. Scripture warns us: “The love of money is the root of all evil” (1 Tim 6:10). In the Greek, “evil” points to dysfunction, waste, harm, and brokenness. When you love money, it consumes you with an appetite that never ends.

Money is a tool, nothing more. When you put it to work, it multiplies and brings more back. But it cannot tell you who you are. Your identity is not measured by a balance sheet.

That $10,000 loss was tuition. It was painful and expensive, but it gave me something I carry every day: discipline. I don’t move stops anymore. I don’t size based on hype or fear. I don’t let money whisper lies about my worth.

The market will tempt you to bend, to hope, to chase but resist it. Risk properly, protect your capital. Trust the edge. Keep money in its place.

Remember, discipline pays. Always!

That $10,000 lesson reshaped how I trade—and now I share those lessons here so you don’t have to pay the same tuition.

You can find everything in one place:
👉 bento.me/DustinTrades