The Reasons for Failure in Life
First, culture shock.
You used to work at a large corporation—a mature platform where you had access to plenty of resources. But when you become a boss, you're running a small company. The dynamic shifts from people coming to you to you having to go to them. These are two completely different businesses. A successful procurement manager isn't necessarily destined to become a successful salesperson, because the latter's life depends on persuading others. Yet many people fail to adapt to this difference. Or rather, by the time you truly realize the environment has changed and the rules of the game have shifted, it's already too late—you're out.
Second, overestimating human nature.
People are opportunistic; they follow those with promise and trample those without. The so-called industry connections you once had often recognize not you as a person, but your potential. When you have a bright future, people acknowledge you; when you don't, they ignore you. If you still maintain good relationships with senior leaders at your former large company, they see you as useful and are willing to invest resources in you.
When you try to cash in on favors, asking others to front resources and partner with you, they agree because they believe you'll be able to repay them later. When someone gives you a wedding gift, they're confident you'll return the favor with something even greater. But if they knew you couldn't afford to reciprocate, would they still show up?
Once the resources you relied on disappear, or if your own prospects falter, sorry—every "friend" will drift away. That's reality. If you can bring value to people, you're their bro; otherwise, you're nobody.
What happens when you overestimate human nature? You end up believing you have an escape route if you fail—for example, returning to a big company or joining a friend's business after your startup flops. But the outcome might be that you can't go back. Once you fail, your friends stop treating you like a friend.
Third, blindly believing that "taking a step back opens up the world."
Some people believe that as long as they can endure, no matter how difficult things get, they'll eventually get through. This mindset is common among employees at state-owned enterprises or large corporations. In contrast, private companies handle layoffs differently—think of the way Xu Zheng's movies portray it. Foreign firms might offer slightly better severance packages, like N+7, but it's still just one notice. There's nowhere to "endure" your way out of that. Employees at larger, more bureaucratic firms tend to have it a bit easier: they might try to push you out, but if you refuse to budge, they may consider adjusting your role just to keep you on a meager payroll. Of course, the precondition is that they'll variously pressure and coerce you into resigning voluntarily. At that point, some people dig their heels in: "I'm not going anywhere, no matter what you do." They'll endure any condition, waiting for you to assign them something—even if it's terrible.
You can tolerate a pay cut. You can accept being transferred to another location and becoming a corner-office ghost. You can put up with endless overtime, meetings, writing reports, and internal training sessions. You might even endure various humiliations and relentless verbal abuse. But if it goes too far—like in the drama *Scarlet Heart*, where Maruotuo Ruoxi is taken into the palace by the Fourth Prince and stays out all night, effectively turning the Eighth Prince into a cuckold—can you still endure that? Everyone has a breaking point. Eventually, there will be something you simply cannot tolerate. What if your salary is reduced to base pay only, and they send you to Africa to be someone's whipping boy? Would you endure it? In the end, you might find it's actually better to just deliver food or packages. Gradual suffering is more agonizing than a quick exit.
In life, understanding is important—but knowing when to understand is even more critical. By the time the game is over, saying "now I get it" doesn't matter. You understand my foot. Often, you think you have many choices, but you don't. And the choices you truly do have, you never appreciate them—you're unwilling even to pause for a moment to consider them.
A person's most valuable quality is their sense of agency—their ability to take initiative.