I received an email last week that kind of shook me.
Here's what it said:
"Louise, I'm a fan, but I have a piece of advice for you that I do hope you'll follow. You're telling people too much. As an example, I know that you openly tell people how it took you 3 years to break even on the share market. You need to be aware that people don't want to hear this if they're going to follow your strategies. They need to feel they can put their faith in the things that you do, so they'll be able to trade well."
Ahhh... isn't this an interesting topic?
Question: Is it wise to be so open and share so much personal stuff?
Answer: wise - no. Honest - yes.
Question: Are people more likely to follow someone without a few bullet holes and scars?
Answer: Personally, I'm not so crazy about listening to those with the Midas touch.
They're not all that interesting, relatable, or knowledgeable about the strategies you get to create when your back is to the wall.
Also, when the bullets do start flying about, I'll bet that they'll be running for cover, crying "Mummy, Mummy..."
So, yes - I do risk showing you my heart in these blog articles, and pointing out the things I've done wrong with trading, as well as right.
However, it seems to me that the overwhelming majority of people go through life literally crippled by not wanting to appear embarrassed in front of other people.
They live their lives of quiet desperation and dissatisfaction - subservient when they should take charge, quiet when they should be speaking up, dependent when they should be independent and poor when they should be rich.
As I walk beside you on your investing journey, pointing out the hidden land-mines (because I have stepped on them before), just realise that I'm willing to look a bit goofy on the occasion - because I care about your trading success.
I'd rather tell you what I've done wrong, so you can learn from my experiences, and you don't need to go ahead and repeat them.
And besides... those initial 3 years taught me valuable lessons - so I really don't look back on them as a 'failure'.
Without those first few traumatic ups and downs, I wouldn't be the person I am today.