Seeing your forecast unfold in real time isn’t loud triumph; it’s a private, almost eerie calm. No fist pumps, no “I told you so,” or dopamine from likes; just a slow exhale and the faintest smirk when reality finally lines up with the mental model you’ve been carrying alone for months. It’s the purest form of self-trust: your reasoning, pattern recognition, and nerve held up when almost everyone else was looking the wrong direction. Quietest flex there is, but it rewires you a little every time it happens.