It was a warm day in May 2007 when I landed at London Stansted, UK.
Around £500 in my pocket.
A handful of printed CVs.
And a mission:
Get a university degree.
I didn’t come to the UK to wreak havoc—or steal benefits.
I came here to do the work.
I had no job lined up.
No safety net.
And no idea what I was really in for.
Just a rented room, a new city, and a head full of stress about rent, tuition fees, and whether I’d be able to keep up.
Spoiler alert: I had no clue.
So I did what any law-abiding student without rich parents would do:
I baked cakes in a café.
Waited tables in a pub.
Even packed flour in a local factory.
I did whatever it took to pay the bills and put food on my table.
And after every shift, I’d hit the books and hope I could keep my eyes open long enough to get through the reading list.
And on weekends?
I cracked open beers with fellow students—united by stress, overdrafts, and a shared disdain for 9am lectures.
There was no one looking over my shoulder.
I was thousands of miles from home.
I was on my own.
No safety. No shortcuts.
Just me—figuring it out.
It wasn’t easy.
But it was mine.
Then came the final year. Work placement time.
Everyone around me seemed fine working for free.
But I wasn’t buying it.
There was no way I could afford for free—and honestly? No one should ever work in exchange for nothing.
So I went hunting for a paid job that could double as my placement.
Eventually, I landed a role as a Polish translator and content editor at a pretty well-known British betting company.
It was relevant.
It was interesting.
It paid actual money.
And then came a moment I’ll never forget.
I sat down with Stavroula, the Content Manager, and told her the truth: I couldn’t afford to work for free.
No family money. No backup. Just me, trying to stay afloat.
She listened. She got it.
And to her credit—she signed it off as my official placement.
For that, I’ll be forever grateful because...
That job opened a door
It pulled me out of survival mode and into something more.
I started learning digital stuff—content, user behaviour, how people click, scroll, and buy.
For the first time, I wasn’t just working to survive.
I was actually interested.
A few months in, it felt like I was finally finding my rhythm.
And then—as it sometimes happens in life—everything turned upside down.
The Polish government brought in new taxes on foreign betting companies.
And the company I worked for pulled out of the Polish market.
Just like that—I was out of a job.
No savings.
No backup plan.
Just a CV—and a decision not to waste time.
So I rolled up my sleeves and got back to it.
Cleaned up the CV.
Sharpened the cover letter.
Uploaded everything to every job board I could find with a “Quick Apply” button.
Then I fired off 100+ applications a day.
The formula was simple: More shots = better odds.
And one of those shots landed in the inbox of a guy named Nittin.
He gave me a chance. Invited me for an interview.
Next thing I knew, I was walking into a small, well-run gold and silver company in Hammersmith.
Did I know anything about precious metals?
Not really.
But I had:
- Relentless curiosity
- A steep learning curve
- And that weird Polish charm you can’t quite explain—but somehow, it works
I got the job.
The title was “US Operations Executive.”
Which is a fancy way of saying:
“Polish guy helping Americans invest in precious metals… from a small office in Hammersmith.”
But hey—markets don’t care about borders.
Just the price, the spreads, execution, and your P&L.
I was thrown straight into the deep end.
The US desk was new and already very busy.
I learned everything from scratch: sales, trust, payments, markets—you name it.
Year after year, I took on more.
Got better.
Leveled up.
Started getting amazing client reviews.
My confidence soared.
Eventually, I earned my stripes as a Senior Precious Metals Trader.
And here I am.
Almost 14 years in the industry.
Six years as a trader.
And I still absolutely love it.
The work matters.
The pace is sharp.
The price swings keep me on my toes.
It demands focus—and I thrive in that space.
I’m genuinely proud of the work I do at BullionVault.
It’s meaningful. It’s global. It’s real.
But here’s the twist…
Now, at 40, with a solid job, London being my home, and a 5-year-old boy calling me “Dad”…
I’ve got this itch.
Like there’s something I’m meant to build—but haven’t yet.
So in early 2025, I ran a full audit on my life.
Health. Wealth. Purpose.
And that reflection sent me down a new path.
One that made me look deeper at where I am, where I want to be—and how to get there.
I gave up smoking.
Hired a nutritionist.
Cleaned up my diet.
Hit the gym.
Between December 2024 and March 2025, I dropped over 10kg.
And my big goal?
To be in the best shape of my life by the time I turn 40—on 9th September 2025.
But it’s not just about abs or aesthetics.
It’s about taking full ownership of my life—before life makes the decisions for me.
That’s where this site comes in.
Welcome to Jacek.Iciek.com—my digital lab.
A place to think out loud, build in public, screw up, learn, and grow.
And at the core of it all?
My newsletter:
Meaning. Money. Mastery: After 40
It’s where I document building a one-person online business from scratch.
No hype.
No credentials.
No ad budget.
Just starting with what I’ve got, where I am.
Some of it will flop.
Some of it might stick.
Either way, I’ll be here—doing what I do best:
Putting in the work.
Learning.
Showing up.
Stacking my skills.
With the hope that someday—before I retire—this pays me back.
And leaves a legacy for my son.
Because if I’ve learned one thing since stepping off that plane in 2007…
You don’t need to have it all figured out.
You don’t need permission.
You just need to start.
And keep moving toward the life you want.
At some point, the right door opens.
So no matter what happens—keep going.
Keep learning.
Keep growing.
Day by day.
Don’t chase perfection.
Just focus on becoming a better version of yourself—one step at a time.
And that’s exactly what I’m trying to do.
