Three years ago, I wrote about ditching New Year’s resolutions for user stories. I promised to follow up on how those stories played out. I never did—until now.
What happened between then and now? A cross-continental move. A Master’s degree. Mental health struggles. And some decisions that fundamentally changed who I am and what I value. Some of those decisions I’m proud of. Others caused more pain than I would have ever expected.
If I had to capture everything in one sentence: Life will force you to pivot, but some things (thankfully) stay invariant.
The question is: which things should you let change, and which should you fight to keep?
The Stories That Worked
Let me start with the wins, because they’re easier to talk about.
Family mentorship held strong across continents. My user story about helping siblings and cousins with their studies? This one delivered. Even from Canada, I stayed connected, answering biology and chemistry questions, watching them grow. Distance didn’t break these bonds—if anything, it made me more intentional about maintaining them.
Health habits stuck when I made them simple. That story about reducing sugar consumption by 5-10% weekly? Major success. I developed a straightforward method that significantly cut my simple carbohydrate intake by only allowing myself to consume large amounts of sugar once per week. Sometimes the smallest, most boring changes create the biggest impact.
Timeboxing evolved with reality. My ambitious plans for aggressive time tracking and task batching had to adapt. My current role requires constant availability to teammates, but I’ve learned to protect “sacred time” for focused work. I accomplish about 80% of my daily tasks—not through perfect systems, but through flexible ones.
The Stories That Pivoted
Technical skills shifted with opportunity. Those C++ and Rust programming goals? Completely obsolete after leaving Germany for a Python and machine learning world. Sometimes scope change isn’t failure — it’s just adaptation. I traded systems programming and computer networks for linear algebra and PyTorch, and that trade-off has paid dividends in biotech and AI.
Business knowledge localized. Learning German tax law became irrelevant when I moved to Canada. But the underlying goal—understanding how to run a business—remained constant. I’m still building that foundation, just with different regulatory frameworks and market dynamics.
The lesson: hold your goals loosely enough to let the means evolve, but tightly enough to preserve the ends that matter.
The Stories That Broke Me
Now for the hard part. The stories that didn’t just fail—they shattered, taking pieces of me with them.
I had two user stories at the top of my 2022 list:
- As a son, I want to spend more time with my mother…
- As a boyfriend, I want to spend more time with my Significant Other…
These weren’t just goals. They were the people who mattered the most.
When I got accepted to a Master’s program in Canada, I saw a career opportunity. What I didn’t see was the choice it would force: professional growth or personal relationships. I chose the degree. I chose the career trajectory. I chose what seemed rational and strategic.
The relationship didn’t survive the distance. Neither did my sense of who I was.
I ended up in what I can only describe as a very dark place—not knowing myself anymore, questioning every decision, wondering if I’d traded everything meaningful for a piece of paper and a job title.
What I Learned in the Dark
Here’s what I discovered when everything fell apart: sometimes time and place are just wrong, but the next time around, I will not put my career before a great partner.
That sentence took me two years to write. Another year to believe.
The cruel irony? Everything worked out professionally. I landed at a company I love, working at the intersection of biotech and AI—literally my dream job. My siblings stepped up to help our mother. I made incredible friends in Canada. From the outside, the decision looks vindicated and I cannot say in earnest that I would like the past to come back. I have already moved on.
But I learned what truly matters through heartbreaking loss. And now I know: the next time life forces me to choose, I’ll choose differently.
What Stays Invariant
Career contentment matters — I’m not dismissing that. I stay hungry, learn daily, see the path to starting my own business becoming clearer. But I’ve recalibrated what “success” means.
I’ve learned that some things should be invariant:
- The people you love come first
- Growth matters, but not at the cost of your core relationships or your health
- Professional wins feel hollow when you’re celebrating alone
Life will throw similar impossible choices at me again. But now I have clarity about my priorities. I feel confident I can make decisions aligned with what I’ve learned about myself—even when those decisions look irrational from the outside.
The Takeaway
Three years later, I’m sharing this not because I want sympathy, but because someone struggling with similar choices might find it useful.
The user story method worked — just not entirely how I expected. Some stories succeeded exactly as planned. Others taught me more by failing than they ever could have by succeeding.
The real insight isn’t about goal-setting techniques or productivity systems. It’s about knowing which parts of your life should bend and which should never break.
Choose carefully. Some pivots are growth. Others are heartbreaking loss disguised as opportunity.
Next time, I’ll know the difference. Will you?