I remember staring at my position size one evening and thinking, something feels off, but I can’t name it.
The trade itself wasn’t dramatic. No big loss. No big win. Just one of those regular trades that quietly adds up over time. But when I looked at my journal later, I noticed something uncomfortable.
Two trades. Same setup quality. Same confidence. Very different emotional reactions.
That’s when the confusion really started for me — fixed risk versus fixed quantity.
Not as concepts. I already “knew” them.
But as lived decisions.
Most of us hear about these ideas early on. Fixed quantity sounds simple: buy the same number of shares or lots every time. Fixed risk sounds more mature: risk the same amount of money per trade.
On paper, both feel reasonable.
And that’s part of the problem. Nothing obviously screams wrong.
But trading doesn’t punish what’s obviously wrong.
It punishes what’s subtly inconsistent.
I didn’t realize this at first. I thought my confusion was technical. It wasn’t. It was emotional.
When I traded fixed quantity, everything looked clean. Same lot size. Same number. No extra math.
But the risk was never the same.
Some trades barely moved against me. Others went straight to the stop and felt heavy. Not because the loss was huge — but because I didn’t expect it to feel that way.
I started reacting differently to identical outcomes.
A loss on a tight stop felt “acceptable.”
A loss on a wider stop felt unfair — even though I chose both.
That inconsistency messed with my head more than I expected.
When I switched to fixed risk, I felt grown up. Disciplined. Responsible.
Same money risked every trade. No exceptions.
But then another thing happened.
My position sizes changed constantly.
Some traders felt tiny. Almost pointless.
Others felt uncomfortably large.
Again, nothing was technically wrong. But emotionally, I kept second-guessing myself.
I’d look at a trade and think, why does this one feel scarier?
Same risk. Different exposure.
It took me longer than I’d like to admit realizing that fear doesn’t respond to math. It responds to perception.
I’ve seen endless debates online.
“Fixed risk is the only professional way.”
“Fixed quantity is simpler and more consistent.”
“Just do what institutions do.”
None of that helped me.
Because the real issue wasn’t which method was correct.
It was whether the method matched how my brain processes uncertainty.
No one talks enough about that.
Here’s something I learned the slow way.
Your risk model shapes your behavior more than your strategy ever will.
With fixed quantity, I became lazy about stop placement.
With fixed risk, I became obsessed with position size.
Both distracted me — from the actual quality of the trade.
And worse, they influenced how long I stayed in losing trades, how quickly I booked winners, and how much confidence I carried into the next setup.
Same chart. Different mindset.
The change didn’t come from reading another thread or watching another video.
It came from journaling a streak of boring trades.
Not the big wins. Not the disasters.
The normal ones.
I noticed something simple:
I traded best when I stopped thinking about money during the trade.
Not before. During.
The moment I entered, the less aware I was of position size or loss amount, the calmer I was. The clearer my decisions became.
That’s when the question stopped being “fixed risk or fixed quantity?”
It became: Which approach lets me forget about money once I’m in the trade?
Risk consistency matters.
But emotional consistency matters more.
If fixed quantity keeps you calm and present, it’s not “wrong.”
If fixed risk keeps you detached and steady, it’s not automatically better — it’s just better for you.
The danger isn’t choosing the wrong model.
The danger is choosing one because it sounds right, not because it feels stable over time.
I wish someone had told me that earlier.
I don’t think of this as a solved problem anymore.
Markets change.
My psychology changes.
Life changes.
What works for me now might quietly stop working later.
And that’s okay.
I’m less interested in being correct.
More interested in being consistent — emotionally, not mathematically.
Because in the end, the account doesn’t blow up from bad formulas.
It blows up from tiny, repeated moments of internal conflict.
That’s the part I pay attention to now.
This piece is part of Quiet Trading Notes, where ideas are explored clearly — without hype, shortcuts, or promises.
Fixed Risk vs Fixed Quantity — why this kept bothering me was originally published in Coinmonks on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

