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What It Really Costs to Take Risks & Bet on Yourself

“If something is important enough, even if the odds are against you, you should still do it.” – Elon Musk

My earliest most exhilarating experience of fear was on a Ferris Wheel ride during a trip to an amusement park at Apapa with my family sometime back in the 90s. I was so scared I nearly threw up. I remember promising myself not to ever go on park rides again just so I don’t feel that fear again.

A couple of years later, I learnt that I don’t need to go on park rides to feel that fear. It comes as part of life when you take just about any risk. From participating in a pageant to starting a business, I have felt that fear time and again when I ventured to achieve anything of substance. 

Risk is thrilling and terrifying, often in equal measure. Whether it’s leaping into a new career, launching a business, or making a personal change, taking a risk is both a bold assertion of self-belief and a confrontation with the unknown. The moment you choose to step outside your comfort zone, you’re making a trade. You’re exchanging the safety of predictability for the promise (and peril) of something greater.

But what’s the real cost of taking risks? What do we give up, and what do we stand to gain when we bet on ourselves?

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially as I’ve challenged myself to walk and write every single day and document my progress publicly. These habits sound simple, but committing to them was a big risk for me. I had no idea if I’d stick with it or if it would make any difference in my life. Turns out, the price of taking these daily risks has been more than I expected, but the rewards have been far greater.

More about the rewards in another essay sometime in the future. For now, let’s explore the real price of taking risks—and why it’s often the best investment you’ll ever make.

Risk means leaving comfort behind

The biggest cost of taking any risk is comfort. I consider it to be the highest on the list because it often involves both physical, mental and other discomforts that can easily discourage us from even starting anything. After all, we’re wired to avoid discomfort and seek safety. But the truth is that comfort is a trap. It feels good in the short term, but it keeps us stuck in the long term. Whether it’s a cushy job, a familiar routine, or a relationship that’s more predictable than fulfilling, comfort gives us a false sense of security.

When you take a risk, you’re choosing to leave that behind. You’re stepping out into the unknown, and it’s uncomfortable. You’ll feel exposed, vulnerable, and sometimes downright scared. But it’s in discomfort that growth happens. Look at my writing, for example. When I decided to start sharing my thoughts publicly, it was nerve-wracking. What if people didn’t like it? What if no one even reads it? I had all of these thoughts that made me consider not doing this at all. But once I got over the discomfort of putting myself out there, I started to grow—both as a writer and as a person.

The emotional cost 

There’s a mental and emotional toll that comes with risk-taking, and it’s often heavier than we anticipate. Doubt creeps in. Fear of failure looms large. You’ll question yourself more times than you care to admit, wondering if you’ve made the right choice.

In life and career, risks often involve a big leap into the unknown. When you’re chasing a new opportunity or starting a passion project, the fear of failure can be paralysing. We often ask, What if it doesn’t work out? What if I lose everything?

But here’s the flip side: What if it does work out? What if taking that risk is the key that unlocks everything you’ve ever wanted? The emotional cost is real, but so are the possibilities that lie on the other side of fear.

The financial cost

If you don’t already know, taking risks often comes with a financial price tag. You might quit a stable job to pursue your own venture. You might invest your savings into an idea with no guaranteed return. Economists call it opportunity cost, but these financial risks are often what keep people from betting on themselves.

But you need to understand that inaction is also a risk, and it’s often more expensive in the long run than pursuing that thing that’s pulling at your heart’s strings. Sure, staying at your safe job might keep the paychecks coming, but what’s the cost of staying in a place where you’re not growing? Over time, the true expense of not taking risks becomes clear: missed opportunities, untapped potential, and a nagging sense of “What if?”

In my own experience, I’ve seen this play out in small, daily ways. Choosing to carve out time to write and walk each day means that I’ve had to sacrifice other things—time that could’ve been spent doing something more immediately comfortable or lucrative. But the long-term investment in myself? Priceless. I gain so much satisfaction and fulfilment from writing and I know that I will regret not giving myself the chance to see how far I can push this craft and the places it can take me.

The social cost

Not everyone will get it when you take a risk, especially a bold one. Friends, family, and colleagues may question your choices. They’ll wonder why you’d leave something stable or predictable for something risky and uncertain.

But I need you to know that not everyone is meant to understand your journey. And that’s okay. Sometimes, the price of risk is walking a path that others can’t see. They may think you’re crazy, but that’s only because they’re measuring your actions against their own comfort levels and the reality that they imagine for you.At the end of the day, your vision is yours. If you’re willing to pay the social cost of taking a risk to bet on yourself—the raised eyebrows, the unsolicited advice—you’ll find yourself surrounded by people who do understand. People who’ve walked the same risky path and can offer real support. The tribe you find on the other side of risk is often far more aligned with who you’re becoming than the one you left behind. Believe me. I’ve been connecting with some really interesting people lately and it’s been the best experience so far.

So, what do you get in exchange for taking risks?

You gain growth for one. Every risk you take, every time you choose the path less travelled, you evolve. I’ve been developing resilience, increased creativity, and a deep understanding of myself and my potential since I started this journey. I know that even if I fail, I’ll still grow because failure is feedback. It’s part of the price I will pay for taking the risk to bet on myself so it’s never wasted.

Another thing to be gained is freedom. Taking the risks that I’m currently taking has given me a sense of agency over my life. Instead of living according to someone else’s rules, I’m creating my own. The ability to chart my course is one of the greatest rewards of taking the risks I’m currently taking. If like me you decide to take that risk that you’ve been hesitant about, you will stop living on autopilot and start making intentional choices that align with your dreams. Isn’t that a liberating thought?

Fulfilment is another thing that you’ll gain. In the end, the real cost of risk isn’t measured in money, comfort, or fear. It’s measured in fulfillment. When you take risks that align with your values and passions, you build a life that feels meaningful. You stop wondering “What if?” and start living with purpose. The elimination of the regret of not betting on myself is enough for me.

Despite all I’ve said above, taking risks is not for the faint-hearted, and it’s definitely not free. But the return on that investment is far greater than the cost. Every risk I’ve taken—whether it’s committing to writing every day or trying something new in my career—has made me stronger, more confident, and more fulfilled. The same will be true for you. If you’re willing to pay the price, the rewards are waiting on the other side.

So the next time you’re faced with a choice between comfort and risk, ask yourself this: “What’s the true cost of staying where I am?” And more importantly, “What might I gain if I take the leap?”

The price of risk may be high, but the price of regret is far steeper.

P/s: If you have any questions about creating content and writing, please leave a comment below or DM me on Instagram!

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