Whose version of success are you living?

Success is one of those words we use as though everybody knows what it means.

• A successful career.
• A successful relationship.
• A successful life.

But if you were asked to describe exactly what success means to you, without referring to what anybody else thinks, how easily could you answer?

For many of us, the definition began taking shape long before we consciously chose it.

We learn what success looks like

From quite early in life, we're surrounded by messages about what we're supposed to be aiming for.

• Do well at school.
• Get qualifications.
• Find a good job.
• Progress.
• Earn more.
• Buy a home.
• Build a relationship.
• Perhaps have children.
• Keep moving forward.

Not everybody follows that route, of course. But even when our lives look quite different, there are usually expectations somewhere in the background about what counts as doing well.

They come from families, schools, friends, workplaces, communities and the wider culture around us.

And many of those expectations are perfectly reasonable.

The problem isn't that other people influence us.

It's that we can absorb their definitions of success so thoroughly that we stop noticing they're there.

When achievement becomes momentum

Once you've started along a particular path, the next step often presents itself automatically.

• You get the qualification.
• Then the job.
• Then the promotion.
• Then perhaps another promotion.
  

With each step comes a new target.

More responsibility. More money. A bigger team. A better title.

And because each step looks like progress, there's rarely an obvious moment to ask whether you still want to be travelling in that direction.

You can become very successful at pursuing something you've never consciously decided you want.

Not because you've made bad choices.

Simply because you've kept taking the next sensible step.

The things we're supposed to want

Career isn't the only place this happens.

We carry assumptions about relationships, homes, money, parenting, retirement, social lives and how our time should be spent.

• Perhaps success means owning a particular kind of home.
• Perhaps it means being busy.
• Perhaps it means being needed.
• Perhaps it means having a relationship that other people recognise as successful.
• Perhaps it means being financially secure enough never to take a risk.

None of those things is inherently right or wrong.

The more interesting question is:

Do they matter to you?

Success can be difficult to question

Questioning something you've worked hard to achieve can feel deeply uncomfortable.

• If you've spent twenty years building a career, what does it mean if you no longer want the next promotion?
• If you've worked hard for financial security, what does it mean if you'd now rather have more time than more money?
• If other people admire the life you've created, what does it mean if you're not entirely sure you want it?

There can also be a sense of waste.

• I've come this far.
• I've invested so much in this.
• People would love to have what I have.

All of which may be true.

But none of them necessarily tells you what you want now.

What would success look like if nobody else could see it?

One way of examining our definition of success is to remove the audience.

• Imagine nobody else could see your job title.
• Nobody knew what you earned.
• Nobody saw your home.
• Nobody knew how busy you were.
• Nobody could be impressed, or disappointed, by the choices you made.

What would still matter?

Perhaps ambition would still matter enormously.

Perhaps you'd still want the bigger job, the business, the beautiful home or the next challenge.

That's useful to know.

This isn't an argument for rejecting conventional success.

It's an invitation to make sure you're choosing it.

Your definition is allowed to change

What counts as success at one point in life may not feel like success at another.

• At 25, it might have been opportunity.
• At 35, progression.
• At 45, autonomy.
• At 55, time.

Or your priorities might move in completely different directions.

There isn't a correct sequence.

And changing your definition doesn't invalidate what came before.

You can be proud of what you've achieved and decide you want something different next.

Defining enough

Perhaps one of the harder questions is not What else do I want? but:

What would be enough?

• Enough money.
• Enough responsibility.
• Enough recognition.
• Enough achievement.
• Enough possessions.

Without some sense of enough, success has a habit of moving just ahead of us.

There's always another level.

Another milestone.

Another thing that will finally make us feel we've arrived.

Sometimes success isn't about getting further.

Sometimes it's recognising that you have the freedom to decide where you actually want to go.

So whose version is it?

You don't need to reject other people's expectations simply because they came from somewhere else.

Your parents may have wanted security for you because they knew what insecurity felt like.

Your workplace may reward ambition because ambitious people help organisations grow.

Your friends may value things that genuinely make them happy.

Their definitions aren't necessarily wrong.

They just aren't automatically yours.

Perhaps the question isn't whether you're successful.

Perhaps it's whether the version of success you're pursuing still belongs to you.