Call My Bluff: Going All In on Trying New Things
- Tori Leto
- Nov 27, 2024
- 3 min read
Being labeled as “gifted” from a young age often feels more like a curse than a blessing. It’s left me with a relentless drive not only to excel but to succeed in everything—academics, relationships, hobbies, and even casual activities. This drive can be exhausting, as it’s tied to an invisible grading rubric for life, one crafted not by me, but by societal expectations.
But who decides what success looks like? Why does society get to dictate how well I’m performing at life?
This question has been on my mind a lot recently, especially as I prepared to host my first Cards & Connection event. I put the event together in just a week and was thrilled when 20 people signed up—an even mix of men and women. I felt confident until the day arrived. As I got ready to head to the venue, anxiety killed my excitement.
“What if I fail?”
But then I paused. What even counts as failure? And more importantly, why am I torturing myself with expectations for what was supposed to be a fun, low-pressure learning experience?

Spoiler Alert: To Society, It Might Have Looked Like a Failure
Despite the promising sign-ups, only six people actually showed up. One of them was a close friend there to support me. Initially, I was crushed. As we started the poker game, I noticed some girls who had registered peek into the room, see the male-dominated table, and quietly leave. I didn’t blame them—walking into a new, already-flowing social setting like a poker game can be intimidating, especially alone.
At first, I blamed myself. Could I have done more to keep them from leaving? Maybe I should have called out to them, welcomed them in before they had a chance to retreat. But in that moment, I was already occupied dealing cards and engaging with the players who had shown up on time. I realized I couldn’t control everything. I could only do my best in that moment.
Mistakes Were Made, But Growth Happened

I made plenty of mistakes throughout the evening—splitting pots in poker, for example, is something I’m still working on. My go-to excuse: “I’m a product of Florida public education.” Thankfully, the players were patient and kind as I fumbled my way through.
Despite the small turnout, as the night went on, my perspective shifted. I found myself asking:
Was this really a failure?
Upon reflection, I realized it wasn’t. In fact, the night was a success for several reasons:
I Learned and Grew: Not just about poker, but about creating a welcoming and inclusive environment. I now know how important it is to actively engage newcomers, especially in settings that might feel intimidating.
I Made New Friends: I walked away with new friends. One of the players invited me to their chess league and another to a home poker game later this month. Building these relationships felt like a win in itself.
I Reconnected with an Old Friend: Spending time with a close girlfriend reminded me of the power of female friendships and how much we can lift each other up just by being present.

Success on My Terms
The inaugural Cards & Connection night wasn’t perfect, but it was meaningful. It taught me that success doesn’t need to fit into society’s rigid framework. It’s okay to redefine success on my own terms—learning, connecting, and enjoying the process are all worth celebrating.
So, here’s to hosting, learning, and growing. The first Cards & Connection is in the books, and I’m already looking forward to the next one. Join me next week on December 3rd. Register Here!
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