Every one of us has taken a severe kick in the teeth at one point or another in our lives. Some of us get kicked several times, in a row, without reprieve. What defines you as a man of worth is how you deal with the abuse that life dishes out to you. A man who finds opportunity in adversity is the kind of man that other men want to be, and want to have on their side. A man who wallows in self-pity and sees adversity as merely an accident of fate is not a pretty sight; he has in fact rejected his own masculinity, and has refused to recognise the power that he holds to manage and alter his own future.

In my experience, there are two types of men in this world- those who make changes, and those who take changes. Don’t be the latter.

Not all that long ago, I faced perhaps the single most challenging year of my entire life thus far- personally and professionally. The culture at the company I was working in at the time changed dramatically and rapidly. My job went from great to miserable in the space of three months- and shortly afterwards, it wasn’t there at all. My hitherto unshakable belief in the sanctity of family ties was shattered as a formerly much-loved family member destroyed the ties that bound my extended family together. That same extended family suffered loss after devastating loss, one after another, in the space of a single year.

So when I found a new job later that same year, it looked like things could only get better. Unfortunately, things panned out a little bit differently. Within days of taking up my new job, I had major responsibilities thrust upon me because I was the only one who had the work ethic, the drive, and the sheer cussed stubbornness and willpower to get in early and stay late and do whatever it took to get the job done. Within three months of joining, I went from being the newest member of my team to its unofficial leader as my manager at the time decided to go walkabout, while senior management sat by and did virtually nothing. I had to endure grinding days and late nights every single night in the office, struggling to keep the business afloat, working with colleagues of indifferent ability at best and close to zero ability at worst. When my family came to visit me in the spring, I had virtually no time to see them, and when I did see them I was irritable and exhausted from yet another 14-hour day at work. That single month probably did more to damage my bonds with those whom I care about the most than any other in my life. On top of that, because of some stupid mistakes I made in the gym, I had to deal with a severe lower back injury that kept me from reaching my true power-lifting potential for the better part of 4 months.

To say that these were dark times is something of an understatement.

Yet slowly, tiny step by agonising step, things began to improve. The bleeding began to slow, and then it stopped. The lessons I learned, always the hard way, showed me how to design tools that would avoid future mistakes. I worked my arse off to do what no one else could- spreadsheets built and scripts programmed to automate complex tasks, messes cleaned up that no one had bothered to touch for years, ideas implemented that no one else could think of, relationships forged that no one else could maintain, weekends spent in the office when everyone else was out relaxing or partying. Six months after that fateful day when my former manager walked out the door in a huff over his pay and left me to clean up his mess, I had achieved things that no one else had thought possible. My team went from being one of the worst in my business to being the best. My clients began to trust us once more- and when they knew that we wouldn’t let them down again, our business flourished as it has never done before. I forged my team into an extension of my will and mind, pushing my people to do things that even they didn’t realise they could do. There was, and is, only one other man in that entire organisation whose achievements exceeded my own in time that we’ve both been there. He’s the only one there who I honestly believe is smarter and better than me, and I am proud and honoured to call him a colleague, a friend, a brother-in-arms.

Now, in a sensible world, hard work is rewarded and those who make changes instead of taking them are promoted to positions of trust and responsibility. That is not my world. Due to an infraction related to office communications that landed me in a spot of bother with HR that year, when it came time for promotions, HR refused to sign off. It didn’t matter how much good I had done, how much money I had saved, how many careers I had salvaged, or how good I was at training and mentoring people. It didn’t matter that in my office, transgressions far more serious than anything I had ever done were routinely ignored- shouting matches, blatantly inappropriate behaviour, people web-surfing all day long instead of working, I’ve seen it all, and none of it got caught. All that mattered was that I had offended someone, and got reported for it. In the end, no matter what my superiors said- and I know that several of them were furious at what HR did- the promotion didn’t go through, even though I’d spent a year doing a job that people two ranks above me would have been unable to do.

It’s at times like these, when everything he worked for suddenly seems to come to nought, when every fundamental belief that he holds dear is challenged and destroyed, that a man must ask some very hard questions of himself. I certainly did. I didn’t like some of the answers, but ultimately I’m at peace with my decision.

I decided to stay on, simply because I didn’t really want to leave despite the miserable treatment I had endured. I stayed for two reasons- the people I worked with, and the fact that there were still so many complicated problems that needed solving. The aforementioned colleague above offered me a role working in his team, and I accepted it. I’ve long since given up any notion that hard work will be properly rewarded, but then, as I’ve said to both my family and my team, all of us in this industry have an expiration date, and mine is approaching fast. When my number is up, I’ll happily leave, because I know the good that I have done, and no one can take that away from me.

Then I got kicked in the teeth yet again. I had hoped to bring along my former star pupil, the woman I trained from a know-nothing rotational grad to a highly sought-after and highly-skilled young analyst, but she decided to pursue another opportunity in the line she’s working in now. I know it was a difficult decision for her; she knows full well the esteem in which I hold her, and she wanted very much to come and work with me again, but it just wouldn’t have been fair to keep others who wanted her skill set waiting while all of the bureaucracy took its own eternity to sort itself out. Though it was a very bitter pill to swallow, I understood and respected it.

In all of this, it’s easy to lose sight of all the good that a man has done. It’s easy to give up and let the failures, shortsightedness, and stupidity of others grind him down. It’s easy to lose hope. It’s easy to feel trapped, lost in the wilderness with the weight of the world on his shoulders, because he knows that he’s the only one who can do what he does and that if he “shrugs”, those who he cares about, those who depend on him, will pay the price.

My answer to this is simple: when one door closes, another one opens. The observant reader will have noticed a few common threads in this narrative. Yeah, I went through hell, quite often alone. But no matter how bad things got, whenever I got kicked in the teeth, I found a way to roll with it. I made changes because that’s the only way I know to deal with the situation. And that, ultimately, is the only way you can deal with these problems.

If you’re going through hell, keep going. But don’t just proceed blindly- be smart about it. Opportunities will come. It’s up to you to take them. Figure out your opportunities, take them where and when you can. This world is full of assholes who will screw you over given the slightest opportunity. Don’t let them. Don’t just create something- aim to build something so amazing that long after you’re gone, people will look at what you’ve built and say, “wow, that’s incredible, I wish I could do that”. It’s not easy. It’s often extremely painful. You’ll often question yourself, your skills, your sanity. and even the point of your existence.

But then, nothing truly worth doing is ever easy. And in the end, all that really matters is the Lord’s judgement of your time on Earth. When you are weighed, when you are measured, will you be able to stand before your Creator, and tell Him that you were worthy of the gifts that He gave you?