I was born in Myanmar. I learned to code at 12 from books because we barely had internet. I've built four companies. Raised millions. Made Forbes 30 Under 30. Did everything "right."

For years, I told people: just work harder. Just want it more. Look at me—if I can do it, anyone can.

I was wrong.

Here's what I didn't want to admit: my success story was convenient. It let me believe that hard work was the only variable that mattered. That my wins were purely earned. That anyone struggling just wasn't trying hard enough.

It's seductive to think this way when you've "made it." It protects your ego. It simplifies a complex world. It makes your achievements feel more impressive.

But it's a lie. And it's a dangerous one.

Nobody asked me if I wanted to be Burmese. Nobody consulted me on Myanmar's political situation.

But I live with those consequences every day.

Every visa application. Every investor meeting where I have to explain my background. Every border crossing where I'm treated like a potential criminal despite building legitimate businesses that employ hundreds of people.

The tech world celebrates "hustle." Work harder. Want it more. Be relentless.

What they don't tell you: some people are running uphill. Others get a head start downhill. Both might cross the finish line but pretending the race was fair is a comfortable lie.

And I participated in that lie. I preached it. I weaponized my own story against people who were still struggling.

Yes, there are escape stories. People who transcended their circumstances. I'm supposedly one of them.

But here's what nobody counts: for every success story, how many gave up? How many were forced to give up? How many are still trying, still grinding, still hoping and will never make it through no matter how hard they try?

We celebrate the exceptions and use them to justify the rule. "Look, he made it, so anyone can!"

I was guilty of this. I let people use my story as proof that the system works. That hard work conquers all. That circumstances don't matter.

It took me years to see how irresponsible that was.

I don't regret telling people to work hard. Hard work matters. Effort matters. Agency matters.

But I do regret the implication: that hard work is sufficient. That if you're not succeeding, you're just not trying hard enough.

That's not just wrong. It's morally lazy. It's ethically bankrupt.

Because the most unfair things in life happen completely beyond your control. Your birthplace. Your passport. Your parent's choices. The geopolitical situation of your country.

You can't hustle your way out of geography. You can't 10x your citizenship. You can't growth-hack your way into being born somewhere else.

And yet, we've built an entire mythology around individual effort as if context doesn't exist.

I've worked my ass off. I'll keep working my ass off. But I'll never again pretend that hard work alone is why I've gotten anywhere or that hard work alone is why others haven't.

The world is unfair in ways that effort can't fix. Some people are born into countries where they're treated like criminals from the start. Where every interaction, every day, reminds them they're starting from behind. Where no amount of "hustle" changes how border agents look at their passport.

Pretending otherwise doesn't help them. It just makes it easier for the rest of us to ignore them.

I'm done with that comfort. I'm done with the simple story.

The truth is messy: work hard and acknowledge that some people are playing a different game entirely. Push yourself and recognize that the deck is stacked. Celebrate wins and admit that luck and circumstance played their part.

That's honesty.

And honest conversations are how things actually change.

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