It was 2008. The global financial system was crumbling, banks were failing, and governments were printing trillions of dollars to bail out the very institutions that caused the collapse. In January 2009, a pseudonymous developer named Satoshi Nakamoto launched Bitcoin, embedding a headline in its very first block: "The Times 03/Jan/2009 Chancellor on brink of second bailout for banks."
That headline was our declaration of independence. It told us that Bitcoin was not just a new currency; it was a counter-system.
For the first few years, I remember Bitcoin was a playground for cryptographers and rebels. It had no monetary value. In 2010, the famous "Bitcoin Pizza Day" happened, where 10,000 Bitcoin—worth hundreds of millions today—were traded for two pizzas.
It sounded ridiculous to mainstream finance. But to us, it was the first proof that digital scarcity worked. We saw that code could be trusted more than bankers.
As an author and teacher, I’ve watched Bitcoin survive everything. It survived exchange hacks, government bans, and price drops of over 80%.
We love Bitcoiners love it because of its immutability.
The four-year halving cycle—where the supply of new Bitcoin is cut in half—taught us patience. We saw that even when the price fell 50% in a bear market (like in 2022 or the recent dip to $58,000 in early 2026), the network continued to function perfectly. It was a store of value that required no trust in human institutions.
Today, in February 2026, with institutional money having entered the space via ETFs, Bitcoin has matured. Yet, the core reason we love it remains the same: it is the ultimate expression of financial sovereignty. It is money that cannot be debased, frozen, or confiscated by authority.
We don't just love Bitcoin because it goes up in price; we love it because it represents a fair, honest, and decentralized future.
