I remember the first time I thought I understood growth stocks. It was the intoxicating phase—the headlines, the charts that only seemed to move in one direction, the feeling that I had discovered something before everyone else did. Revenue growth was exploding, margins didn’t matter, and every dip looked like a gift wrapped in opportunity. It felt less like investing and more like surfing a wave that refused to break. But then something changed. Not overnight. Not in some dramatic collapse that forces you to confront reality all at once. No—what I experienced was subtler, more psychological, and far more dangerous if you didn’t recognize it for what it was. I had entered the second stage of growth stocks. And I didn’t even realize it at first. The Illusion of Infinite Growth In the early stage, growth stocks feel almost mythological. The narrative is simple: the company is disrupting something, expanding rapidly, and the market is rewarding it accordingly. Revenue growth is the north ...
There was a time—not that long ago—when I thought I was a genius. Not in a quiet, humble, “I’ve read a few books” kind of way. No, I mean full-blown, spreadsheet-wielding, screenshot-posting, group-chat-dominating confidence. Because everything I bought went up. Tech stocks? Up. Unprofitable disruptors with names that sounded like startup passwords? Up. Companies that proudly announced they had “no clear path to profitability but incredible user engagement”? Especially up. It was like the market had collectively decided that vibes were a valid valuation metric. And I, naturally, concluded this was due to my exceptional investing skill. The Golden Age of “Just Buy Growth and Shut Up” If you weren’t investing during the growth boom, let me paint you a picture. Every company was the future. Every CEO was a visionary. Every earnings call sounded like a TED Talk about how profits were optional but ambition was mandatory. And the best part? The market rewarded it. You didn’t...