Once it set that I would be playing in the WSOP, I knew I needed to immerse myself in the game. I started simply.
Casual games with friends became my first step. Those early sessions weren’t about perfect strategy but about getting comfortable. Learning the flow of the game, practicing decision-making, and starting to think more intentionally about each hand.
Playing with friends created a low-pressure environment where I could make mistakes, ask questions, and start connecting the dots without overthinking every move.
At the same time, I began playing online. That’s when things really started to shift.
Online poker introduced a completely different level of intensity. The pace is faster. The decisions come quicker. And the margin for error feels smaller.
Early on, I found myself hesitating: double-checking decisions, playing hands I should have folded and folding hands I wasn’t confident about. I realized quickly that instinct alone wasn’t going to be enough.
I needed structure and understanding. So I leaned into the process.
I started paying closer attention to patterns, learning how position affects decision-making, and recognizing that poker is as much about patience as it is about action.
One of the biggest turning points in my learning process has been volume. There’s no substitute for actually playing.
I’ve now played hundreds of hands, and with each session, things have started to slow down mentally. Situations that once felt confusing now feel more familiar. I’m beginning to recognize when I’m in a strong position and when I need to step back.
That doesn’t mean I’m playing perfectly, far from it. But I’m playing more intentionally. And that’s progress.
After all that, the casual games, the online grind, the studying, I finally had a session where my poker learning clicked.
Four hours, up $74 at .05/.10. Not life-changing money, obviously. But it hit different because I knew why I won. I folded hands I would've talked myself into playing two months ago. I spotted a few spots where I actually had an edge and didn't just hope for the best. I didn't tilt when I lost a pot I should've won.
It was the first time I felt like I was playing poker instead of just gambling.
What made that win meaningful wasn’t the amount, it was the confidence that came with it.
Poker can be a challenging game mentally. You can make the right move and still lose, which makes it hard to measure progress in the short term.
But that session felt different. I was more patient. More aware. More in control of my decisions.
It gave me a glimpse of what consistent, disciplined play can look like.
As I continue preparing for the WSOP, a few key lessons have stood out so far:
I’m still very much in the early stages of this journey. There are moments where I feel confident, and others where I’m reminded how much there is left to learn. Poker has a way of doing that, it keeps you grounded.
But that’s also part of what makes it so engaging. Every session is an opportunity to improve. Every mistake is something to learn from. And every small success builds momentum.
As I continue preparing for the World Series of Poker, I’m focused on continuing this process.
Going from having limited poker experience to now playing regularly, both casually and online, has already been one of the most rewarding parts of this journey.
And that first meaningful win reminded me of something important: Progress doesn’t happen all at once. It happens one decision, one session, and one hand at a time.




