What Makes a Person "Successful?"
Two February's ago, I sat in a room with all of the major players in upper management for the restaurant concept that I worked for. It was a training seminar, and for two days, we met in the upstairs of a bar on 44th St. and 9th Avenue here in New York City.
During the training, at some point during those two days, I mentioned to one of the VP's who was also our Regional Director of Operations something about being "unsuccessful."
He asked me "what's the definition of success?"
I could have punched him, but I think of that moment (and him) often. I also find myself asking my friends and my clients that question... and I brace for the dirty look. I know that they want to punch me when I ask.
I talked about success in a conversation with my friend and mentor, Ash Ambirge.
Ash is an entrepreneurial genius, a pioneer in online business, and a true master of creating her own reality. Her entire brand The Middle Finger Project (and subsequent book of the same name, published by Penguin Random House) is focused on just that- helping people quit their jobs they hate and find passion and a love for life again by doing what they love.
But then, there's that nagging idea of what success is that we insist on having in Western society. What does "success" even mean? What makes a person successful?
I thought I was unsuccessful because of the type of job I had, but in reality, I was unsuccessful because I was unhappy.
In the podcast, Ash gave the example of a lawyer who invests a ton of years studying law (and money! law school isn't exactly cheap) to find out they hate the profession and want to say, start a blog about knitting.
What's the definition of success?
Sure, there's the societal clout of being a lawyer, but as Ash says, "NOBODY ELSE HAS TO LIVE YOUR LIFE, MAN!"
If you wake up and hate your life every day, can you really call yourself successful? Can you convince yourself by ordering the most expensive spirits and buying designer cufflinks? Buy a house in the Berkshires? Send your kid to St. Paul's? I mean where does the void filling stop?!
I think about this when I think about comparison.
"Nobody else has to live your life, man."
A friend of mine from undergrad reached out to me in a DM this last week and said one of her professors from back then (I knew him) reached out to her and wanted to do a profile on her for something. She ghosted him.
I, knowing and relating to that feeling all too well, probed "why?"
"Because wtf have I done with my degree," she said. "I'm certainly not some sort of success story."
"That's relative," I said.
"In some degree, sure," she replied, "but when I have friends at the Department of Defense and running statewide and national electoral campaigns..."
"But do you want to do that?" I asked.
And that's when I got the :: shrug :: emoji.
You know what the :: shrug :: emoji is? It's a no.
If it isn't a fuck yes, it's a no. That's it.
And I'll go back to "what's the definition of success?" Because I'm here to tell you- it isn't a job title, and nobody else outside of you can tell you what it is.
If you guys are feeling stuck and unsure about what you want, check out the podcast. We discuss all sorts of great stuff, including realigning your identity (one of perhaps the most integral parts of the work I do.)
Thinking back to that February, 2019 room and who was in it, I think only one or two people still work for that company.
Most of upper management was let go because of their wanting to hang on to old concepts and culture that they believed in. The bar we were in (which was owned by a guy many of us knew a long time) has since shuttered due to Covid. I heard a rumor that he took the liquor license off of the wall and got on a plane back to Ireland. (It could be bullshit... who knows?)
Almost everyone else has moved on to bigger and brighter.
Change is the only constant. You can fight it, or you can focus on what makes you happy, and fervently run toward it.
