It was a Tuesday. Not that that matters. But I remember because it was raining sideways, and my phone kept buzzing with market alerts like a clingy ex. Red everywhere. S&P? Bleeding. Nasdaq? Looked like it got jumped in an alley. Crypto? Don’t even get me started — that week Bitcoin fell harder than my buddy Rob after two shots of tequila and a bad idea involving a mechanical bull.
So there I was. Mid-40s. Coffee-stained hoodie. Portfolio flashing like a Christmas tree from hell. And I thought: “You know what, man? I need something that doesn’t go poof when Elon tweets or the Fed sneezes.”
Gold. The one asset I’d always called “grandpa’s security blanket.” The shiny rock people hoard in disaster movies and post-apocalyptic video games. I used to scoff. But suddenly… grandpa seemed like a genius.
Flashback to My Wall Street Snobbery Days
Back in the 2000s, I was that guy — leather shoes polished to a mirror shine, glued to Bloomberg terminals, laughing at “doomsday preppers” stacking bullion like Jenga blocks.
“Gold’s for cavemen and pirates,” I’d mutter.
Turns out, pirates knew what was up.
Because when the fourth black swan of the decade lands in your backyard and starts flapping its wings like it owns the place — you start asking, “What actually holds value when everything else is on fire?”
And the answer, my friend, isn’t your blue-chip stock that just got torched or your real estate investment in a city everyone’s fleeing.
It’s the one thing that’s been valuable since Julius Caesar was flexing in a toga: gold.
So, I Finally Pulled the Trigger
I’ll admit it. I didn’t jump in like some alpha wolf snarling into the wind. I tiptoed in — like someone testing bath water that might be either soothing or scalding.
I started small. Physical gold, baby. Bars, coins — the real deal. Not the digital stuff (not at first). I wanted to feel the weight. You ever hold a gold bar in your hand? It’s like holding a secret. Heavy. Dense. Full of untold stories.
I bought my first ounce from a place called [redacted — they were sketchy]. The guy behind the counter looked like he moonlighted as a Bond villain. Still, I handed over the cash like I was doing a drug deal. Walked out with a little velvet pouch and an adrenaline rush I didn’t expect.
That night, I just stared at it. One ounce. $1,800 at the time. Sitting on my kitchen counter like it was daring me to underestimate it again.
Then Came the Rabbit Hole
Once you start, the game changes. I dug deeper than a Reddit conspiracy theorist. I read books, watched documentaries, fell asleep listening to Peter Schiff rants like bedtime stories. Learned the difference between:
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Bullion vs. numismatic coins (don’t get suckered by fancy collector premiums — unless you’re really into Roman history).
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Spot price vs. premium (that markup? It matters more than your barber’s tip).
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Storage options (home safe vs. allocated vault vs. burying it in your backyard like a lunatic).
I even flirted with gold ETFs. Quick, liquid, easy-peasy. But man… it just doesn’t scratch the same itch. Owning paper gold is like bragging about your Tinder match — it’s not real ‘til it’s in your hands.
Eventually, I split my approach:
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40% physical gold (bars, coins, my personal dragon hoard)
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30% ETFs (for speed, baby — fast in, fast out)
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30% mining stocks (higher risk, but spicy returns when the market swings your way)
I wasn’t building a portfolio. I was building a fortress.
Why I Keep Coming Back to Gold
Let me hit you with the real talk.
If you spend any time on the Teranga Gold website you’ll learn that gold doesn’t pay dividends. It doesn’t innovate. It doesn’t “go to the moon.” But it also doesn’t vanish in a puff of smoke when some hedge fund plays fast and loose with leverage.
Gold just is.
It sits there. Regal. Silent. Indifferent to your drama. And when the dollar hiccups or geopolitics throws another tantrum, gold just nods — like it’s seen this movie before.
And the truth? I sleep better knowing I’ve got it. Like an emergency exit in a building I hope never catches fire — but if it does, I’m not fumbling in the dark.
Lessons From a Guy Who Got It Wrong Before He Got It Right
If you’re thinking about buying gold, here’s my advice — not financial advice, just old-dog-to-younger-pup kind of stuff:
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Start with physical. Even if it’s just a coin. There’s a psychological switch that flips when you own something real. Tangible. Heavy.
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Don’t overthink the timing. You’ll never buy the bottom. Stop trying to be a hero. Buy when it feels right, not perfect.
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Avoid hype dealers. If their website looks like it’s yelling at you in all caps, walk away. Legit sellers don’t need to scream.
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Consider storage. Are you the hide-it-in-a-sock-drawer type or the insured-vault type? Choose wisely, grasshopper.
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Mix it up. ETFs and mining stocks can add flavor, but they’re not substitutes for the real thing.
And maybe the biggest lesson?
Gold is not about getting rich. It’s about staying sane while the rest of the world goes bananas.
One Last Story Before I Wrap This Up
Couple months ago, my nephew — fresh outta business school, armed with spreadsheets and swagger — asked me if I still “believed in that gold stuff.”
I handed him a gold coin.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Your reminder that some things don’t need Wi-Fi to hold value.”
He laughed, but he kept it.
And I could tell — in that moment — the idea stuck. Because gold isn’t just a commodity. It’s a story. A relic. A quiet bet that when the storm hits, the old ways still matter.
So yeah. I’m still buying. Not in buckets. But consistently. Patiently. Because while markets play musical chairs, I like knowing I’ve got a seat that doesn’t move.
TL;DR – But Make It Real
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Gold isn’t sexy. It’s stable.
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Don’t wait for a crash to start thinking long-term.
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Start small, but start smart.
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Trust your gut more than the noise.
So… Should You Buy Gold?
I’m not your financial guru. I’m just a guy who got burned, wised up, and started buying shiny rocks because everything else kept letting me down.
But if you’re tired of whiplash markets and want something real — something timeless — then yeah, maybe gold deserves a spot in your life too.
And who knows?
Maybe one rainy Tuesday, you’ll look at that little golden coin on your desk and think, “Damn… I get it now.”
Catch you on the next story.
