In 1996, I met this guy. I was a freshman in college.  Naive and curious.  Lived in one state my entire life.  Grew up in a huge Catholic Hispanic family. He was three years older.  Well-traveled.  Calm and confident.  Disarmingly great sense of humor. He had a map of the world stuck full of push pins on his college dorm room wall.  He studied at a desk he made out of a door and two file cabinets.  He had a table full of books.  Books on trading and writing and history. I tutored him in Spanish.  He recommended a little stock to me called IOMEGA that helped me make it through college. This guy was different.  He stayed home writing and trading while his dorm mates partied and puked in trashcans.  And somehow, we just fit together. Five years later, we got married. It’s still a toss up on which was the bigger risk.  Me, investing my financial aid money into IOMEGA.  Or him, marrying a first-born Catholic, Hispanic girl. So far, both risks have worked out. Since I was 19, I’ve watched my husband, now a full-time trader and entrepreneur at work.  I’ve seen him take risks.  I’ve seen him mess up at times. I’ve watched how he’s developed the behind-the-scenes discipline and … Continue reading Living with a Trader