Success is a place
I always thought I would be successful when I could wear stilettos on the weekdays, when I could have a car that spoke for me, when I could have letters behind my name to speak something of my intelligence.
But, I don’t have anything of those things. I wear flats, sometimes, black ones that are so run down that the heels are uneven. I drive a nice car but it’s not the kind that speaks for me, I still must speak for myself. I have two letters behind my name instead of three but I hardly ever use those letters because signing my name on playdate sign-ins with M.A. seems pretentious. And desperate.
I am not the version of successful that I thought I needed/wanted to be back then, but I do feel everything that I thought “success” embodied. I do feel happy now. I do have my health. I do have children now. I am pursuing small parts of my dream when I can now. So, am I successful?
I would argue “yes.” Yes, I am successful because I am at a place that is beautifully splendidly my own. It’s my chosen place. I chose to be a stay-at-home-mom. I chose to quit my job. I chose to start this blog and to wear jeans with a silver blouse with the shoulder pads removed today.
Success is a place.
It’s a place you get to through your decision to chose your own path. It’s not about money or cars or degrees or all the other stuff that really can be read as signs of success. It’s a place you get to and in getting there you kick your feet up and can comfortable say, “I’m here because this is where I was supposed to be. I’m here because I tried to follow my heart and this is where I landed with feet planted and an open heart.” That’s success.
How do you define success? Would you consider yourself successful at this point in your life?
This was my Stream of Consciousness post. It’s unedited, written in 5 minutes, and inspired by a prompt on All Things Fadra.