The "No" that changed my life

When I was 19 years old, I thought I had my life mapped out.

I was going to join the Royal Navy as a fighter pilot.

For years, I had worked towards it. I chose my A-levels carefully — PE, Maths and Physics — and focused on getting strong GCSEs. I kept myself physically fit. I immersed myself in everything Navy-related. My dad, an ex-submariner, was a huge source of motivation and pride. This wasn’t just a career idea — it was the plan.

Eventually, I made it to the Admiralty Interview Board to enter as an officer. Out of four pilot and aircrew applicants, I was quietly confident. During the team-building stage, I stepped into leadership naturally. I knew my naval knowledge inside out. Even the other candidates said I was the favourite.

But none of us got through.

I was told I should consider joining the Marines as a helicopter pilot instead. The feedback was that I’d likely be frustrated spending eight months at sea without sport. But I didn’t play sport just because I loved sport. I played because I loved teamwork — camaraderie, shared purpose, pushing together toward something bigger.

Looking back now, I realise something important: they probably didn’t need pilots at that time. And perhaps that “no” was a test — to see how badly I wanted it.

At the time, I thought I wanted it badly enough.

But not badly enough to go through the whole process again.

And that decision changed everything.

The Two-Year Gap That Felt Like a Lifetime

While applying to the Navy, I’d missed two entry years for university, where I had planned to study Sports Science. At 19, that felt enormous. I worried about being two years older than the other freshers. I worried about how it would look.

So instead of reapplying… instead of going to university… I got a job.

My dad generously offered to help me train as a commercial pilot, but that wasn’t my dream. It would have been a sensible move — but not my move.

That was the moment my life veered off in a different direction.

For years, I carried regret about that decision.

The Psychology of Regret

Research shows something fascinating about regret.

Studies by psychologist Thomas Gilovich at Cornell University found that in the short term, we regret actions we take. But in the long term, we overwhelmingly regret the actions we didn’t take.

The chances we didn’t pursue.The conversations we avoided.The dreams we didn’t chase.

Jeff Bezos famously calls this the “Regret Minimisation Framework” — imagining yourself at 80 years old and asking which decision you’d regret less.

At 19, I made my choice from fear:

• Fear of rejection again

• Fear of looking stupid

• Fear of wasting time

But fear-based decisions often lead to long-term regret.

That experience shaped me more than getting a “yes” ever could have.

Regret as Fuel

For a long time, I looked back wishing I had reapplied. Wishing I had pushed harder. Wishing I had ignored what people might think.

But here’s what I now understand:

Regret can either anchor you…or it can propel you.

That “no” taught me a powerful lesson:

If you want something badly enough, you must be willing to go all in — even if it means facing rejection again.

Regret the things you’ve done, not the things you haven’t.

That lesson sits at the heart of my coaching today.

Why I Built My Coaching Business

Part of the reason I set up my coaching business was because of that 19-year-old version of me.

The version who hesitated.The version who didn’t reapply.The version who let fear make the decision.

I now help others:

• Break through limiting beliefs

• Stop playing small

• Move toward their goals with clarity and courage

• Build the financial freedom and flexibility to design their lives intentionally

I’m driven not just by business success, but by the desire to create choice — for myself and for my kids. To show them what it looks like to pursue your goals fully. To teach them that setbacks are part of the journey, not the end of it.

Missing out on the Navy didn’t end my dream.

It redirected it.

A Question For You

What’s the thing you once wanted… but stopped pursuing?

Was it truly the wrong path?

Or did fear make the call?

You don’t have to let one “no” define the rest of your life.

Sometimes the greatest growth comes from the door that didn’t open.

And sometimes the dream you’re meant to chase next is waiting on the other side of courage.