The Making Of an Entrepreneur: My story of Struggle, Sacrifice and Success
Early life & Childhood: The origin Story
Looking back, my childhood is a rollercoaster of emotions, but here we go. I was born in Romania in 1993, into a working-class family. My biological father left early on, so I grew up with my mom and her husband. It wasn’t easy, but it shaped me. From a young age, I realized I had no one to guide me, so I had to be hyper-aware of my own behavior and choices. The hardest part was the lack of support and understanding.
As a kid, I was wildly creative. Making things was my escape. I was into painting, writing, singing, sculpting, even building my own toys. I was always creating something.
I still remember my first day of school vividly. Even back then, I could sense what the system was trying to mold us into, and I instantly hated the rules — the obedience, only speaking when spoken to, the endless homework.
Life at home wasn’t easy, so I spent almost all my time outside. I’d stay out until I was the last kid left in the neighborhood, just soaking up every moment away from home.
Adolescence: The Phase of Self-Discovery
My teenage years kicked off with a surprise move to Italy. I was told it was just a holiday, but it turned into a permanent stay. I was suddenly pulled away from Romania, where I used to live part-time with my grandparents. Not long after, my grandfather passed away, and I couldn’t be there for him — that loss hit me hard and left a deep scar.
Living in Italy was tough, especially since I didn’t speak the language. I stuck with Romanian friends at first because it felt safer, but I realized if I wanted to fit in, I needed to step out of my comfort zone and start learning Italian. School was brutal. Not only was I struggling with the language, but I was also bullied and faced racism from the start. I ended up skipping classes often because I felt like an outsider and never really felt safe.
I’ve always had a rebellious streak, and that only grew stronger in Italy. I could never fit in, so I found my place on the streets. Without money, I had to get creative and hustle just to make it through the day. I wore second-hand clothes or cheap knock-offs, but I dreamed of the day I’d be able to work legally and buy my first pair of Nikes. Music was my passion back then — producing beats was all I thought about — but I didn’t have the cash to invest in gear, courses, or mentors.
A turning point for me was when I realized just how much money dictates everything. I was broke, trying to figure it all out on my own, while my mom and her husband were grinding every day to support me and my two younger sisters. I knew I had to find a different path, something bigger. Eventually, I had to drop out of school and take my first job — which turned out to be the worst experience of my life.
Early Adulthood: Kicked Out & Thrown into the Real World — From Survival Mode to Learning Mode
I was about, 20 years young when I was kicked out...
At around 20, I got kicked out of my mom’s house for defending her during a domestic incident. It wasn’t a shock — I had a feeling it was coming. Thankfully, I was already working, even though it was in the worst possible conditions, earning just €4 an hour in agriculture. It was pure exploitation: long hours in freezing cold, heavy rain, scorching 40-degree heat, and constant pressure from bosses who yelled at us. There was no health and safety, no breaks, no mental health support — just survival.
Most days, we ate on the go, skipping breaks just to finish early, though leaving was never guaranteed. The landowner dictated our hours, so some days we’d work 12, 14, even 16 hours straight, back-to-back, and other days we’d get sent home with no pay. It was exhausting and relentless.
The little money I made barely covered rent for a single room in a town far from my family, along with basic bills and food. It was a repetitive, soul-crushing cycle with no end in sight.
During this time, I struggled with depression, anxiety, stress, and intense loneliness. But I knew if I gave up, I’d end up on the streets. Music became my only therapy — it was my escape from the harsh reality I was living.
That brutal first job shifted me from survival mode to learning mode. It forced me to grow up quickly, taking on responsibilities I wasn’t prepared for. A few years later, I made the decision to leave Italy and move abroad, hoping to find work that paid at least double, even if I wasn’t qualified.
This experience taught me more about myself than anything else could have. I was thrown into adulthood, forced to learn resilience, responsibility, and how to keep pushing forward when the odds were stacked against me.
Moving to the UK: A Bold Leap of Faith
When I moved to England in February 2017, I had high expectations. I believed I was entering a society more civilized and respectful. The plan was to start fresh, but the reality hit hard and fast. Within two months, I was almost out of money, on the brink of being kicked out of the rented room. I was stuck waiting for documents to process, desperate to get a job. My first gig was a factory job, 12-hour night shifts at breakneck speed, a repeat of the pressure and exploitation I had faced in Italy. I realized quickly that with a zero-hour contract, I was just another disposable cog in the machine.
After some time, I found a warehouse job that gave me a small glimpse of freedom. Working from 6 AM to 2 PM felt like a luxury, and for the first time, I felt like I was on the right path. I bought brand new clothes with my own money and even took my first paid holiday. Back then, I naively thought the only way to make more money was to work more hours. I didn’t understand taxation and the brutal reality that the more I worked, the more I got taxed.
The honeymoon phase ended fast as the economy began to shake. I got fed up with the warehouse grind—unreasonable targets, toxic management. So, I transitioned to working at an airport café. It was a refreshing change, but still, I wasn’t satisfied with the pay. I knew I could do more and felt the opportunities I needed were in London. By this point, I was confident in my independence. Loneliness didn’t scare me anymore because I had realized everything starts with me.
Burnout: The Breaking Point
2018 was the year I thought I was on the verge of a breakthrough. I was working as hard as I could, hitting the gym, and developing myself in every way possible. Yet, something was missing. I found myself exhausted, slowly burning out as I noticed the same endless cycle repeating itself. Fortunately, I met people smarter than me, earning more than me, who shattered everything I thought I knew about success and money.
That’s when I stumbled upon the book Rich Dad Poor Dad by Robert Kiyosaki. It changed everything for me—my perspective, my mindset, my life. I had zero understanding of financial education, personal development, or entrepreneurship before. It was like finding the golden key. I started surrounding myself with growth-oriented individuals and realized I was ready for a change.
When I moved to London, I found a job and a place to live within two days. I felt optimistic, but then the “Plandemic” hit in 2019, and it was like the rug was pulled from under me. During the lockdown, the company I worked for paid me just enough to cover rent and basic necessities. My diet consisted of the cheapest pasta and boiled lentils I could find. I was furious—disappointed with the world, and even angrier with myself for being stuck.
During those quiet months, I was forced to confront myself. Friends I thought I could rely on vanished, and I had to go deep into self-healing—meditating, journaling, running every day, practicing breathwork, and learning everything I could about online monetization strategies. I had dreams of starting a YouTube channel or blog but was held back by my own excuses and the lingering pain.
Entrepreneurship: The Decision to Take Control
Reading Rich Dad Poor Dad was the first step. But The Cashflow Quadrant took it a step further, opening my eyes to the fact that I’d been trapped in an Employee mindset my whole life. I wanted more—I wanted to be an entrepreneur. The people I met in London were earning what I made in a year in a single month. It lit a fire under me. I threw myself into seminars, live events, and online training sessions, soaking up as much knowledge as I could.
One of the funniest yet sobering moments was when I realized how much money people were making on social media and YouTube. I watched analytics of a kid’s Pokémon channel, and it was pulling in hundreds of thousands of pounds. Meanwhile, I was breaking my back for someone else’s dream. That’s when I knew I had to step into the digital space—learning content creation, copywriting, SEO, sales, and marketing. I felt closer than ever to my big break.
The turning point came during the second lockdown. My partner and I took a job at a high-end restaurant in Chelsea, London. We rented a flat nearby that ate up 60% of our combined wages. We thought it was a strategic move to network with wealthy, high-level individuals. It backfired. We had to leave the property, lost our deposit, and ended up back in Dunstable, working at Amazon during the pandemic. We got scammed out of furlough payments, taxed for both our salary and the non-existent furlough, leaving us with mere pennies after hours of hard work.
That moment was a wake-up call. I realized even high-level circles have their share of corruption. Humility and honesty don’t always get rewarded the way you’d hope. From 2020 to 2024, it was a blur of stress, anxiety, and burnout. The only relief was hitting the gym, which helped maintain a positive mindset. We were scammed once again, lost everything, got evicted, and ended up in debt just trying to afford basic housing. I felt completely drained—emotionally, mentally, physically. I had no tears left, but I swore to myself I’d find a way out.
Present Day: Where I am Now
Summer 2024 was my breaking point. I left my job, burned out and discouraged, but with a clear understanding that if I didn’t make a change, nothing would change. With a few savings, a mountain of debt, and a broken-down car, I went all-in on building my digital business. After countless hours of paid courses, free online content, mentorship, and seminars, I finally launched what you see today—The Endgame Mastermind.
This isn’t just a program; it’s the culmination of everything I’ve learned and endured. It had many names before, but I chose “Endgame” because it symbolizes the ultimate vision and purpose behind it. I know the first content I create will suck. I know I’ll have to fail big and fail often. But I’m ready. For the first time, I feel a deep sense of purpose. I know what I want, and I’m laser-focused on achieving it.
Looking forward, all I see is growth. 2025 is my year, and I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to succeed. I’m determined to provide more for my partner, retire my mom, and build a powerful community of like-minded individuals who share the same mission.
If I could go back and give advice to my younger self, I’d say, “Stop wallowing in self-pity. Keep pushing. No one’s coming to save you—you have to save yourself.”
