Success is a funny thing, we don’t know how to measure it or actually define it.

Does being happy make you successful?

How do you know if you’re happy?

Does making x amount of dollars make you successful?

Well what if you spend more money than you made?

How do you measure something you can’t define?

I’d say a majority of us are not successful, and that’s not to make you feel bad, but to make you think bigger.

For me success is living in a world that doesn’t exist yet.

For me success is inspiring others.

Growing up, and even until very recently, I always measured success with money, accolades, social status, things a lot of people use to measure success.

The truth is, money doesn’t make me any happier, any less anxious, or bring any more joy into my life.

Accolades are simply to feed your ego, any award or recognition you can receive is subjective. You could win a James beard award, but it just means some group of people think you’re good. Another group could think you suck.

Social status means less to me now than ever before. I don’t need a lot of friends. I need a handful of good friends, and I have that. It makes hard days easier, and good days better, but it doesn’t mean I’m successful. It just means I’ve found something vulnerable to connect with someone about.

As I look back at years gone past, I think I realized that success isn’t a finite thing. You don’t just achieve it one time, and if you do achieve it, it’s not yours to keep.

In 2015 at the age of 19 I became a bartender, that felt like success to me then.

In 2016 at the age of 20 I became lead bartender at a restaurant. That felt like success to me then.

In 2018 I got fired, and felt like a failure. I didn’t fail though, I fell.

In 2019 I began working for someone who would come to be my mentor, I made connections with a couple of people I still talk to every day, one of which I care about more deeply than most of the friends I’ve made in time.

In 2020 at the age of 24, I bought a house, a goal I set out on as a teenager, I always told myself I’d own a home by 25.

In 2021 I became agoraphobic for a period of the year, and felt like a failure, but again I didn’t fail I fell.

In late 2021, I got engaged, to who I thought would be the women I’d spend the rest of my life with. That felt like success.

In 2022, my fiancé left me, and my dog got diagnosed with cancer. I came shockingly close to killing myself, had I done that I would have failed, but I didn’t so it wasn’t a failure, it was a fall.

In 2023 I took a job I really loved and that felt like success, but my dog died, and that led to a fall. For most of 2023 I didn’t leave the house. Over 100 days in the house. Sometimes that still feels like a failure, but it was just a fall.

Now we’ve reached 2024, and today I’m in a good place with my mental health, a success. Professionally I’m not sure what my next move is and I need to figure it out soon, this is where failure creeps in. If I start doing something new in the hospitality field did I just wait 10 years of my life? Did I fail? No I think I fell.

To me falling is making a mistake, and while I still struggle with beating myself up when I make a mistake, I’m learning that making mistakes is the only way I’ll ever grow. I’m learning it’s okay to say I made a mistake and try again. To keep trying, if you keep trying you can never fail, you can only fall.

I used to really hate falling, but it’s growing on me, every time I stand back up from a fall and brush the dirt off, I’m left with a little more knowledge, and there’s nothing I enjoy more than learning.

Like most things in life, I think success ebbs and flows. Somethings work out and others don’t. Just because something doesn’t work out doesn’t mean you failed.

Just because you’re not who you want to be today, doesn’t mean you’ll never be that person. You fell, take a minute, catch your breath, get up and try again.

The best part of all of this is to realize that the mistakes you make, the falls you have, they don’t devalue you as a person. If you’re at a point in life where things don’t feel great, the light at the end of the tunnel is dim, you’re still worth love, and care, and kindness, and help, because we’ve all been there, and we’re all bound to end up there again.

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.