The idea of purpose is everywhere. I feel like there isn't a day I scroll through social media without seeing someone talk about "finding your why" or how purpose is the key to fulfillment and success. I've seen this for a few years now, and at first, I didn't buy into it. I thought it was just another trendy, feel-good concept that people latched onto because it sounded profound. It felt impractical to me, even naive, like something that ignored the hard realities of life and business. I always said to myself that yes, purpose is something nice if you have it, but is it really what matters? What about effort, strategy, or maybe just a bit of luck? That's what I used to believe. But my journey made me realize that purpose isn't just a fluffy idea, but rather the foundation of everything. And without it, the effort, strategy, luck, and anything else that you think business is about won't work.

When I was 15, I made a decision about the way I wanted my life to be shaped. I said to myself that I never want to work for someone else's dream but for my own. I wanted to create something of my own. Even at that age, I knew that it would be the harder path to embark on, but since then I knew that I could get way more ahead on it than on following the traditional path. I didn't like school at all. I didn't like college. I didn't like the idea of the traditional path. I wanted freedom. I wanted to have the freedom to follow my ideas, to do things the way I want. And all of this educational system was just the opposite. I wanted to bring something meaningful to life, to wake up every day excited about what I was doing. Of course, I didn't have the words for it back then. It was just a feeling, a deep desire to do something that mattered to me. That feeling pushed me to start experimenting, to build things, and to try to carve out my own path.

For the next 5-6 years, I threw myself into project after project. I partnered with people from the UK and even Tanzania (I was based in Romania). I tried to do everything and seize any opportunity that was offered to me. My focus? Well, what can a 15-year-old desire the most? What is the definition of success for a 15-year-old? Money. I kept saying to myself that if I could just create something profitable, I'd have the freedom and independence I wanted. I didn't stop to ask myself whether I cared about the things I was building or whether they reflected who I was. No. I was chasing results. I was focused on the outcome, not the process. And for a long time, that drive was enough to keep me going.

But here's the thing: almost none of those projects worked. I'd spend months building something, pouring time and energy into it, only to watch it fizzle out. The ones that did make a little money didn't excite me. They felt empty, like they didn't really mean anything. Over time, the frustration started to pile up. I began to doubt myself. Why wasn't it working? Why couldn't I get anything to stick? Was I just unlucky, dumb? Was there something I was missing? Was I running from something that was actually meant for me? Eventually, the doubt and frustration became too much, and I decided to step back. I stopped everything. No new projects, no brainstorming, nothing. I needed space and time to figure out what was going wrong.

Taking this break was perhaps one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. When you've spent years chasing a goal, it's terrifying to hit pause. But it was necessary. For the first time, I had to confront some uncomfortable truths about myself and my work. Why was I doing this? What was I actually trying to achieve? The answers weren't easy to face. I realized that I had been chasing money for its own sake. I wasn't putting any real soul into my work. My projects weren't failing because of bad luck or lack of effort, but rather because I didn't truly care about them. They lacked depth, passion, purpose, and regardless of how odd it may sound, I believe that people could sense that. You can't fake authenticity, and I had been trying to build things without any real connection to them.

That realization was a turning point. I understood that if I wanted to create something meaningful, I had to start with purpose. I needed to build something that reflected who I was and what I cared about. That's when I came back to the idea that had been sitting in the back of my mind for years: Mismir, the brand I'm working on today (To give you a little context and more understanding, since I was 15 years old, I started to write down in a notebook all the ideas that I had and wanted to do at some point – the idea behind Mismir was one of the first things I've written down, and since then it has been the one idea that got me excited the most ). Mismir has never been about clothing or streetwear – it has always been envisioned as a movement, as a way to express the things I care about and create something that inspires others. It's built on a foundation of creativity, collaboration, and desire to challenge the way we think about fashion and life. For the first time, I wasn't chasing money. I was chasing meaning. (Even while writing these words I get goosebumps)

As soon as I started working on Mismir, I've seen how things began to change. Ideas came more easily. I felt energized in a way I hadn't in years. Opportunities I never thought possible started to appear. People began supporting me in ways I couldn't have imagined. Some of them offered funding for my idea; others provided encouragement or opened doors to connections I wouldn't have had otherwise. I found myself working with manufacturers and brands I had only dreamed of collaborating with before. It felt like the universe was responding to my change in perspective, aligning with my purpose in ways I couldn't explain.

But this wasn't and isn't just about external results. Internally, I felt different. I was and am more motivated, more focused, more willing to push through challenges because I believed in what I was doing. When things got hard – and they did (they still do) – I had a reason to keep going. Purpose gave me a sense of direction, a feeling that I was building something bigger than myself. And that feeling was worth more than any short-term success.

Don't get me wrong: Mismir is still far from where I want it to be. I don't consider myself successful at all (yet), especially not by the standards most people use. But I've experienced enough to know that purpose changes everything. It's not just about making the work easier and more enjoyable, but rather about creating a foundation for long-term growth and fulfillment. My "why" has become my compass. It guided my decisions, kept me grounded, and helped me navigate the inevitable ups and downs of building something from scratch (it still does and will forever do).

Looking back, I understand now why purpose has become such a buzzword. At first, it annoyed me. But I see now that it resonates because it's true. People crave meaning. We don't just want to succeed; we want to feel that what we're doing matters. Purpose gives us that. It connects us to something bigger than ourselves, whether it's a vision, a community, or a cause. And when you're operating from that place, everything starts to fall into place. You attract the right people, the right opportunities, and the right energy to make your vision a reality.

For me, Mismir is a testament to that truth. It's far from perfect, and I have a long way to go, but it's built on a foundation of passion and purpose. That foundation has already opened doors I couldn't have forced open before, no matter how hard I tried. It's shown me that when we put soul into our work, it resonates with others. People want to support something that feels real, something that inspires them (think about yourself). And that's, in my opinion, the power of purpose – it not only fuels us but also creates a ripple effect that touches everyone around us.

I know there are people out there who feel the same way I did a few years ago. It's okay to feel skeptical about all the talk of purpose. It's okay to think it's just another motivational trend. It's absolutely fine. I've been there. I know how it is. But I also know that when you take the time to ask yourself the deeper questions such as "Why am I doing this? What do I truly care about?" the answers can change everything. They won't come easily at all, and they will make you feel really uncomfortable, but in my eyes, they are worth it. Because when you find your "why", everything else starts to align. The work becomes more meaningful, the challenges more bearable, and the successes more satisfying.

I'm still on this journey, and I know I have a lot to learn. But if there's one thing I've come to understand, it's this: purpose is not just a nice-to-have—it's the foundation of everything. It's what keeps you moving forward, even when the road is uncertain. It's what gives your work meaning and your life direction. And it's the reason I believe, now more than ever, that the "why" truly makes it all worth it.

Thank you for reading!

Have a blessed day!🌹

Eduard🌹

The idea of purpose is everywhere. I feel like there isn't a day I scroll through social media without seeing someone talk about "finding your why" or how purpose is the key to fulfillment and success. I've seen this for a few years now, and at first, I didn't buy into it. I thought it was just another trendy, feel-good concept that people latched onto because it sounded profound. It felt impractical to me, even naive, like something that ignored the hard realities of life and business. I always said to myself that yes, purpose is something nice if you have it, but is it really what matters? What about effort, strategy, or maybe just a bit of luck? That's what I used to believe. But my journey made me realize that purpose isn't just a fluffy idea, but rather the foundation of everything. And without it, the effort, strategy, luck, and anything else that you think business is about won't work.

When I was 15, I made a decision about the way I wanted my life to be shaped. I said to myself that I never want to work for someone else's dream but for my own. I wanted to create something of my own. Even at that age, I knew that it would be the harder path to embark on, but since then I knew that I could get way more ahead on it than on following the traditional path. I didn't like school at all. I didn't like college. I didn't like the idea of the traditional path. I wanted freedom. I wanted to have the freedom to follow my ideas, to do things the way I want. And all of this educational system was just the opposite. I wanted to bring something meaningful to life, to wake up every day excited about what I was doing. Of course, I didn't have the words for it back then. It was just a feeling, a deep desire to do something that mattered to me. That feeling pushed me to start experimenting, to build things, and to try to carve out my own path.

For the next 5-6 years, I threw myself into project after project. I partnered with people from the UK and even Tanzania (I was based in Romania). I tried to do everything and seize any opportunity that was offered to me. My focus? Well, what can a 15-year-old desire the most? What is the definition of success for a 15-year-old? Money. I kept saying to myself that if I could just create something profitable, I'd have the freedom and independence I wanted. I didn't stop to ask myself whether I cared about the things I was building or whether they reflected who I was. No. I was chasing results. I was focused on the outcome, not the process. And for a long time, that drive was enough to keep me going.

But here's the thing: almost none of those projects worked. I'd spend months building something, pouring time and energy into it, only to watch it fizzle out. The ones that did make a little money didn't excite me. They felt empty, like they didn't really mean anything. Over time, the frustration started to pile up. I began to doubt myself. Why wasn't it working? Why couldn't I get anything to stick? Was I just unlucky, dumb? Was there something I was missing? Was I running from something that was actually meant for me? Eventually, the doubt and frustration became too much, and I decided to step back. I stopped everything. No new projects, no brainstorming, nothing. I needed space and time to figure out what was going wrong.

Taking this break was perhaps one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. When you've spent years chasing a goal, it's terrifying to hit pause. But it was necessary. For the first time, I had to confront some uncomfortable truths about myself and my work. Why was I doing this? What was I actually trying to achieve? The answers weren't easy to face. I realized that I had been chasing money for its own sake. I wasn't putting any real soul into my work. My projects weren't failing because of bad luck or lack of effort, but rather because I didn't truly care about them. They lacked depth, passion, purpose, and regardless of how odd it may sound, I believe that people could sense that. You can't fake authenticity, and I had been trying to build things without any real connection to them.

That realization was a turning point. I understood that if I wanted to create something meaningful, I had to start with purpose. I needed to build something that reflected who I was and what I cared about. That's when I came back to the idea that had been sitting in the back of my mind for years: Mismir, the brand I'm working on today (To give you a little context and more understanding, since I was 15 years old, I started to write down in a notebook all the ideas that I had and wanted to do at some point – the idea behind Mismir was one of the first things I've written down, and since then it has been the one idea that got me excited the most ). Mismir has never been about clothing or streetwear – it has always been envisioned as a movement, as a way to express the things I care about and create something that inspires others. It's built on a foundation of creativity, collaboration, and desire to challenge the way we think about fashion and life. For the first time, I wasn't chasing money. I was chasing meaning. (Even while writing these words I get goosebumps)

As soon as I started working on Mismir, I've seen how things began to change. Ideas came more easily. I felt energized in a way I hadn't in years. Opportunities I never thought possible started to appear. People began supporting me in ways I couldn't have imagined. Some of them offered funding for my idea; others provided encouragement or opened doors to connections I wouldn't have had otherwise. I found myself working with manufacturers and brands I had only dreamed of collaborating with before. It felt like the universe was responding to my change in perspective, aligning with my purpose in ways I couldn't explain.

But this wasn't and isn't just about external results. Internally, I felt different. I was and am more motivated, more focused, more willing to push through challenges because I believed in what I was doing. When things got hard – and they did (they still do) – I had a reason to keep going. Purpose gave me a sense of direction, a feeling that I was building something bigger than myself. And that feeling was worth more than any short-term success.

Don't get me wrong: Mismir is still far from where I want it to be. I don't consider myself successful at all (yet), especially not by the standards most people use. But I've experienced enough to know that purpose changes everything. It's not just about making the work easier and more enjoyable, but rather about creating a foundation for long-term growth and fulfillment. My "why" has become my compass. It guided my decisions, kept me grounded, and helped me navigate the inevitable ups and downs of building something from scratch (it still does and will forever do).

Looking back, I understand now why purpose has become such a buzzword. At first, it annoyed me. But I see now that it resonates because it's true. People crave meaning. We don't just want to succeed; we want to feel that what we're doing matters. Purpose gives us that. It connects us to something bigger than ourselves, whether it's a vision, a community, or a cause. And when you're operating from that place, everything starts to fall into place. You attract the right people, the right opportunities, and the right energy to make your vision a reality.

For me, Mismir is a testament to that truth. It's far from perfect, and I have a long way to go, but it's built on a foundation of passion and purpose. That foundation has already opened doors I couldn't have forced open before, no matter how hard I tried. It's shown me that when we put soul into our work, it resonates with others. People want to support something that feels real, something that inspires them (think about yourself). And that's, in my opinion, the power of purpose – it not only fuels us but also creates a ripple effect that touches everyone around us.

I know there are people out there who feel the same way I did a few years ago. It's okay to feel skeptical about all the talk of purpose. It's okay to think it's just another motivational trend. It's absolutely fine. I've been there. I know how it is. But I also know that when you take the time to ask yourself the deeper questions such as "Why am I doing this? What do I truly care about?" the answers can change everything. They won't come easily at all, and they will make you feel really uncomfortable, but in my eyes, they are worth it. Because when you find your "why", everything else starts to align. The work becomes more meaningful, the challenges more bearable, and the successes more satisfying.

I'm still on this journey, and I know I have a lot to learn. But if there's one thing I've come to understand, it's this: purpose is not just a nice-to-have—it's the foundation of everything. It's what keeps you moving forward, even when the road is uncertain. It's what gives your work meaning and your life direction. And it's the reason I believe, now more than ever, that the "why" truly makes it all worth it.

Thank you for reading!

Have a blessed day!🌹

Eduard🌹