Great for her, not for you

As a kid, I was a striver. You know the type, and maybe you’re there with me. Gold star chasing. Ladder climbing. I wanted to be Oprah but also Prime Minister but also a CEO. I’d see women in movies clicking their red bottom heels across the glittering floor of a towering office building, barking at their assistants to get them coffee now. I’d see all that glamour and power and think: I want that.

One day I was at a coffee shop, and the woman next to me had a bag worth a conservative $10k. She was wearing the red bottomed shoes. She was barking on her phone at someone to do something now. My old self was in awe of her, but my grown ass woman self felt tired for her. As I sat observing, my gut piped in and said, that isn’t the power you want honey. Great for her, not for you. You’re going to do it your way.

It’s easy to identify success the same way everyone else does. We’re taught from when we’re very small to see money, titles, and power as success. It’s easy to be jealous of people we mark as successful, the ones going on fabulous holidays on Instagram and getting promoted in glittering office towers.

We forget there are no perfect people or perfect situations. Perfect is a quick and uncatchable bitch. She’ll just make you tired trying.

We forget that there is an abundance of success in the world. Theirs doesn’t take away from yours, and yours doesn’t have to look like theirs.

We forget to focus on our own journey, to dig deep into how success looks, feels and tastes for us. Not for Hollywood, or for Susan, or for fucking Instagram.

And we forget to live the hell out of the life we have right now.

It’ll take a bit of courage, but let’s put down the feed-envy and find our own way in 2019. Oh, and no matter how incompetent our future assistants are, let's never yell at them.