Moving out of the northeast forced me to re-evaluate several aspects of my life, one of which is how I define success.
Growing up, defining success was simple. I was successful if I got good grades, made the varsity team, or was invited to parties.
Throughout the first part of adulthood defining success was still fairly easy because society has agreed upon a certain set of metrics that fit nicely with the life I had built. I was successful because I made a certain amount of money that afforded me a condo in a well-respected zip code and discretionary income. I regularly received new job titles to pair with my paycheck. I had a desirable BMI. And I got to share my life with an attractive, loving, and supportive husband.
Check. Check. Check. Check.
So with that understanding, I was confident I knew what success looked like. And while I certainly wasn’t the most successful person, objectively speaking I was doing well enough.
Then I moved and wasn’t surrounded by people who thought it was normal to live in 2 bed/2bath, 1000 square foot apartments that started at $700k but could be worth more than a million. I had multi-hour conversations where no one asked me about my job title, my new car, or my new bag. In ATX, many of the key success indicators I had used for 35 years are no longer relevant.
That’s good because I don’t have a cool job title. Sometimes I tell people I’m self-employed. Other times I say I’m a consultant. When it strikes me I use Brand Strategist or Communications Specialist. (Aside – as someone whose career is rooted in branding you would think I’d have this locked down. Shame.)
I also don’t have discretionary income because I’m wholly focused on earning enough to survive and extend my runway so I can work independently as long as possible. Financial success is no longer about exploiting the Nordstrom’s Anniversary Sale but keeping a roof over my head, the lights on, and food on the table. If I earn what I need to cover my living expenses without dipping into my savings, then technically I’m successful. It’s a much lower bar.
My life has also become much simpler. When I lived in the NYC area being busy made me feel successful because it made me feel important. I enjoyed saying stupid stuff like, “I haven’t talked to the husband about that because we haven’t seen each other in two days since we’re both so busy.” Now, I really love having time to think and explore things that interest me.
I used to want to make more money so I could have nicer stuff – nicer jeans, nicer shoes, nicer workout clothes, a nicer car, nicer vacations. What I’ve come to realize is that my tastes aren’t that fancy and I honestly have all the stuff I need. I live in a nice enough apartment, with more clothes than I need for my current employment situation. I drive a nice enough car that I’m really happy with and would probably only consider trading for a 4-door Wrangler. What’s funny is that if I still lived in Hoboken I wouldn’t even consider the trade because a Wrangler is only worth it if you can take the top off for the majority of the year.
I also wanted to make more money so I could save for retirement. This is still true. Saving any money for retirement is a success, but being able to max out is even better.
It’s taken me almost a year to appreciate this unique opportunity: I can define my own success.
My epiphany and appreciation started after my dog woke me well before my alarm. After cursing and taking him out while it was still dark, we headed back inside around 6:15. Instead of getting back into bed until 7, I made myself a latte, grabbed the iPad, and headed out on the balcony to read for an hour. It was an amazing way to start the day.
How fortunate I was to not have to run to catch a bus to beat rush hour! How lucky to not have to get dressed and worry about being tired in the office because my day started earlier than I anticipated! How incredible to be in complete control of my schedule and how I allocated my time.
It was the first time I realized the power and freedom of my current life afforded me.
My parents always said that I should strive for freedom. It’s one of the reasons they encouraged me to be a writer. I’m not a writer, but I’ve found a path that offers freedom.
For me, freedom is made up of several things: having the money to exist – this means keeping a roof over my head, food in my belly, clothes on my back, but also having enough discretionary income to indulge in the things that make me happy. For me, that’s expensive gym memberships.
Freedom is also having the ability to control my time. I have money to do the things above because I have clients who pay for my time. In return, I hopefully provide them something of value (I guess if I didn’t they would stop paying me). But by doing it for myself, I have the freedom to work anywhere I want (unless they want me in their offices) and when I want. I love being able to start my day at 7:30 and work until I’m done for the day – not 5:30 or 6:30 or 7:30 because that’s when I’m supposed to be done. While I struggled with the fluidity of my schedule for a long time, I now value it. I don’t have it figured out entirely, but I’m comfortable working until something is done versus working because I need to fill a set number of hours.
Freedom is also having the opportunity (financial and time) to explore new opportunities and things I’m passionate about. This means looking for new ways to grow my business or explore channels that may lead to dead ends, but may also lead to exciting opportunities.
I have the freedom to choose what I say yes to and what I say no to. That’s a pretty incredible and fortunate position to be in and I’m happy I’m finally able to have redefined success.