What Is Success? Asked by a Failure.

I am a failure.

At least that’s what the world I grew up in told me.

I have nothing to show. No impressive title. No degree on the wall. No big car in the driveway. My wardrobe isn’t trending , no brands, no labels, nothing that signals I’ve arrived.

And if that wasn’t enough , even the way I look doesn’t make the cut.

My nose isn’t sharp enough. My cheeks are too big. My hair isn’t the right kind of curly. And my body? My body has never fit the mould. Too much curve for the clothes they make, and somehow the size on the tag became a judge on my worth. A fitting room mirror has seen me cry more times than I can count.

Not my achievements. Not my possessions. Not my wardrobe. Not even my own face in the mirror.

Nothing about me, it seemed, was ever quite enough.

And for the longest time I believed that completely. Because when the bar is set by everyone around you and you can’t seem to reach it and worse, it keeps rising every time you get close. What else are you supposed to conclude?

I was a failure. Case closed.

But here is the question that changed everything for me:

Who set that bar? And why did I ever agree to be measured by it?

We were never chasing success.

We were chasing approval.

There is a difference between feeling unsuccessful and feeling empty. And I think most of us have confused the two for our entire lives.

We don’t feel behind. We feel empty.

And no title, no salary, no house, no number on the scale is ever going to fill that! 

Because we are running toward the wrong finish line. And the cruelest part? That line keeps moving. You reach one target and immediately the next one appears. You get the thing you said would make you happy and discover that it doesn’t. Not really. Not in the way you needed it to.

I have watched this with my own eyes.

I have seen people spend money they don’t have to impress people they don’t know for approval from people who don’t even care.

I have witnessed what the love of money does to people. What the obsession with appearances does to families. What the endless performance of success does to a person’s soul.

And I have seen people who had everything others envied, people others asked for advice who were quietly dying inside. Who had reached every external target they set and found nothing waiting for them there.

That must be the loneliest feeling in the world.

So what is success then? If it’s not the title or the degree or the big car? Or even the perfect face? 

I think it’s a state of being. It has nothing to do with the outside world, but rather what’s on the inside!

I think I would consider myself successful if I can wake up and accept exactly where I am. If I can find genuine contentment in the present moment. Just be genuinely grateful and thankful for even the smallest, most insignificant thing. Because I think we forget that life is a gift.

And what an insult to the giver of life if we waste it “chasing after the wind”. 

So I’m exiting the race , so I can free up space and time. To have the emotional and mental capacity to actually do the internal work . “Putting on the new personality”, “making my mind over”, change my attitude. Becoming, slowly and imperfectly, the person I actually want to be. 

That is inside out. Not outside in.

I’m done chasing a moving target. I’m done performing for approval I never needed. I’m done measuring my worth against standards someone else invented.

I’m focused now on what makes me come alive. And what actually makes me happy. On doing the best I can, taking my circumstances into consideration. Meeting myself where I am. 

One day at a time. 

I’m exiting the race. Who’s coming with me? 

Love 

Sushmita