Before It All Began

Before It All Began

I was born in Kyrgyzstan. When I was four, my family emigrated to Germany. I don't remember much from that time — only that everything was new. New language. New faces. New country. The feeling of "I don't quite belong here" followed me my entire life.

The Boy Who Didn't Fit the System

I wasn't a good student. Not because I was stupid — because the lessons didn't interest me. I never understood why I should learn something that didn't touch me. While others dutifully did their homework, I was trying things. Building. Breaking. Building again.

I had a deep shame around reading aloud. When the teacher called on me to read in front of the class, I started stuttering. Barely a sound came out. The others stared. I sweated through my shirt. And I swore to myself: Never again.

Today I stand in front of cameras, write publicly, and build products meant for thousands of people. Funny how things change.

Electrician

After school I did an apprenticeship as an electrician. I'm good with my hands — it's in my blood. But even during the apprenticeship I knew: this isn't my path. Not because the trade is bad. Because I realized I don't want to work for someone else.

I kept asking myself: How do other people find happiness? Because I hadn't. Not unhappy — but not alive either. I was functioning. Got up, worked, came home, slept. Repeat.

The First Attempt

Right before the end of my apprenticeship, my best friend came to me. "I found something. You need to see this." He started explaining and within a few minutes I was all in. "I'm in. What do I need to do?"

We had no plan. No business plan, no strategy, no money. But we had energy. And somehow we won our first clients.

After a year I took the leap: self-employed. Full time. My own boss.

And then I failed.

Not dramatically. Not with a big bang. Slowly. I didn't have the skills. Not the selling — I could sell. But the personality. The time management. The discipline. The ability to handle pressure. I had to become someone I wasn't yet.

Deep-seated beliefs and blocks surfaced. Every day. "You can't do this." "You're not good enough." "Who do you think you are?"

What had to happen, happened: I couldn't withstand the pressure. I gave up self-employment and went back to a regular job.

Back on the Treadmill — But With a Feeling

The pressure was gone. But the feeling stayed. This feeling that something big was dormant inside me. That I wasn't made to work for someone else for 40 years. That there had to be more.

Almost daily that feeling grew stronger. It wanted out. But I suppressed it. Because I was afraid. Because I had already failed once. Because now I had responsibility.

A lot had happened in the meantime: I married the woman of my dreams. In 2014 we built a house together — with our own hands. Every brick, every tile, every brushstroke. And we had two wonderful children.

From the outside, everything looked perfect. Good job. Beautiful house. Great family.

From the inside: a volcano waiting to erupt.

Sam Ovens — 2019

In 2019 I made a second attempt. This time on the side. No leap into the deep end — a careful wade in.

I started reading books. Me, the guy who hated reading in school. Who stuttered in front of the class. Suddenly I was devouring everything. Personal development. Business. Psychology. All of it.

And then I found Sam Ovens. Consulting.com. Skool.com. His course literally turned my life upside down. Suddenly things made sense that I'd never understood before. How to build an offer. How to understand a target audience. How to sell without pretending to be someone you're not.

Through Sam I learned what I'd been missing all along: a system. Not motivation. Not hustle. A system.

I started helping others. Coaches. Consultants. Experts. People who, like me, wanted to build something of their own but didn't know how. Community building, positioning, sharpening offers.

That was the beginning of everything that came after.

What I Learned

Three things I took from that time:

1. Failure isn't an ending — it's a data point. My first attempt at self-employment wasn't a mistake. It showed me who I wasn't yet. Without that failure I would never have known what I needed to work on.

2. The feeling doesn't lie. If you've sensed for years that there has to be more — there is more. Don't suppress it. It won't go away. It only gets louder.

3. You don't need talent. You need a system. I'm not smarter than anyone else. I can't speak, write, or sell better than most. But I learned that a good system matters more than raw talent. Sam Ovens taught me that. And that's exactly what I pass on today.

— Alex, somewhere between Kyrgyzstan and Paphos

---

That was before it all began. Before the Booster. Before Cyprus. Before the black screen.

But that feeling — that there has to be more — it was always there. And maybe you recognize it in yourself.