7 Life Lessons from Playing Too Much Chess

I have been spending far more time on chess than I would like to confess. What started as a curiosity has turned into a habit that eats into my days and sneaks into my nights. Chess.com makes it worse by allowing games that can stretch for days. As many of you here who I have tackled (or more correctly, who have tackled me) would attest to, you and your opponent can each take as much as three days to respond. That means I can be in the middle of a meeting, or pretending to listen attentively on a phone call, while secretly wondering if moving my knight to e5 will create trouble.

I am rarely in one game at a time. I am in several. This means that a single day can bring me the misery of four defeats and the thrill of two unexpected victories. My rating climbed from a lowly 234 to a proud 670 before I slid back into the swamp of 550 where I currently live. But it has been worth it. Because in all those hours of squinting at little black and white squares, I have picked up lessons that are bigger than the board.

Here are seven.

1. Learn the fundamentals fundamentally

At first, I wanted to be flashy. I paid for the premium account so I could like the great moves. The scholars’ mate. The four-move checkmate. The aggressive gambit that would intimidate my opponent into panic. It worked once or twice, until someone who actually knew what they were doing dismantled me like a bored adult playing a child.

I realised that without fundamentals, you are building a tower on sand. Controlling the centre, developing your pieces, protecting your king. They sound dull, like the vegetables of the chess world, but they feed everything else. The deeper the foundation, the higher you can build.

Life is no different. You cannot skip the boring basics and hope to shine forever.

2. Think before you act

One morning, half awake, I saw what looked like an opening to fork my opponent’s king and rook. Excited, I lunged. Two moves later, I realised the opening was bait. My queen was gone. The game was over before my coffee cooled.

Impulse is powerful, but it rarely serves you well. Thinking before acting is not about moving slowly, it is about moving wisely. That applies whether you are about to send a risky email or about to sacrifice your bishop.

3. Quality wins over quantity

There was a game where I had almost all my pawns still intact. They looked neat and solid, like a small army lined up for inspection. My opponent had fewer pieces, but each one was in the right place at the right time. In the end, my little pawn army watched helplessly as I was checkmated.

In life, having a lot means little if what you have is scattered or poorly used. A few quality choices, or relationships, beat an endless collection of things you cannot use well.

4. Anticipate others’ moves

The first time I began to look at the board from my opponent’s perspective, my game changed. Before moving, I asked: If I were them, what would I do next? Sometimes the answer was obvious. Sometimes it was terrifying. But it helped me see the board differently.

Outside chess, too, we often move through life thinking only about our own plan. The moment you learn to step into another person’s shoes, whether in work or relationships, you make smarter choices.

5. Do not fear sacrifices

One of my favourite games came from letting go of a rook to trap my opponent’s queen. In the moment, the sacrifice felt reckless. When it worked, it felt glorious.

Sacrifice hurts because it feels like loss. But sometimes it clears the way for something greater. Leaving a job to pursue something meaningful, ending a project that is draining you, even dropping a habit that feels safe. The board teaches that letting go is not always defeat.

6. Protect your king

I spent far too long in my early games hunting for quick victories, pushing pieces forward, and leaving my poor king exposed like a tourist in a war zone. It never ended well.

Protecting your king is the equivalent of protecting yourself. Your energy, your peace of mind. Because when that falls, the game is over no matter how many clever plays you have made.

7. Enjoy the game

I have raged at the screen more than once. I have sulked after a string of losses. Then one day I asked myself why I was getting so worked up. It is a game of sixty-four squares. If it stops being fun, then what is the point?

Life, too, becomes unbearable when we lose the joy in it. There will be tough days and bad games, but if the process has no delight, the destination will not save you.

Chess mirrors life more than I expected when I downloaded the app. It tests patience, punishes arrogance, rewards strategy, and teaches humility. It also makes you laugh sometimes, especially when you accidentally blunder a queen after carefully planning for twenty moves.

Some people joke that feminists must be conflicted about the game. The queen is the most powerful piece, yet her destiny is tied to protecting a fragile king. Whether that irony bothers anyone or not, one thing is clear: in chess as in life, it takes both power and protection, both joy and seriousness.

The game goes on until it does not. And while it does, you might as well learn something. And here is my silent plea for my friends who have long been at this game more than me, to take it easy on me. My road has been rough, but then, I’d have it no other way.