I was voted Most Likely to Succeed my senior year along with the valedictorian of my high school.

It was nice at the time, but I didn’t give it much thought afterward. I went to college and declared a business major because I thought it would help me get a job.

My career began just four weeks after graduation. I secured medical benefits and a 401(k) before my 22^nd birthday.

High school got further away with each passing year, but my older brother was still talking about it. If I introduced him to a new friend decades later, he’d ask if I’d told them about my school-day accolades. (I had not.)

I’d progressed in my career. I moved from a smaller organization to blue chip companies. I’d received promotions and become a mid-level manager, but these accomplishments didn't make me feel successful. 

I came to realize, even though I thought I’d chosen the way, I had taken the path of least resistance. Out of pragmatism and fear, I landed in Corporate America where success was defined as climbing the ladder, but by my mid-thirties, I knew I didn’t want to reach the next rung because it would only mean more of what I liked least—politics and posturing. 

Because the traditional definition of success didn’t work for me, I needed to define it for myself which included launching my leadership coaching and private psychotherapy practices. (Want to learn more about how I got there? Find my story in three acts at the bottom of the home page of my website.)

Not only did I have to create that vision professionally, but I also had to do it personally.

As a woman, the message I’d been given my whole life was the recipe for success is getting married and having children.

While I was clear I didn’t want to climb the corporate ladder, I wasn’t necessarily rejecting the idea of marriage and family. I was open to what might unfold, but domestic life didn’t feel either inevitable or aspirational to me.

That wasn’t true for many of my friends, so when I started feeling left behind, it was once again time to find my next step: closing on a small apartment in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood of Manhattan.

It’s been nearly 20 years since I bought my place.

Unlike most of the successful ladder-climbers, I never upgraded my lifestyle or my space, so I had the freedom and confidence to leave a full-time job behind and pursue my personal brand of success.

Many people define success by salaries, stock portfolios, and white picket fences. 

I have my own definition.

What’s yours?

If you need help finding an answer to that question, book a complimentary coaching session here.