I still remember being 12 years old, watching my older cousin play "Stairway to Heaven." I was mesmerized. Not just by the music, but by the way he commanded the instrument. That moment changed my life.
I begged my parents for a guitar. They finally gave in on my 13th birthday. I practiced obsessively—4-5 hours daily for the next 15 years. By college, I was playing metal shows, recording albums, and freelancing as a session musician.
But something was missing.
I loved playing, but I was frustrated watching friends give up after a few weeks. They felt like they weren't "talented enough" or "progressing fast enough." They didn't realize that progress comes from the right guidance, not raw talent.
That's when I started teaching. And I haven't looked back since.