By 
Picture this: you’re sitting in your apartment, scrolling through LinkedIn at 2 AM, wondering why achieving everything on your checklist feels so empty.
It’s a feeling a lot of people know well. You’ve ticked the boxes — the degree, the right social circle, the job that impresses people at dinner parties — and yet something feels off. Not the dramatic, obvious kind of miserable. The quiet, gnawing kind that makes you question everything while you’re brushing your teeth.
I’ve spent years writing about psychology and personal development, and this is one of the most common struggles people share with me. They’ve been collecting achievements like Pokemon cards, and yet they feel hollow. The version of success they’ve been chasing? It was never theirs to begin with.
The moment you realize you’re living someone else’s dream
You know that feeling when you’re watching a movie of your own life and suddenly realize you’re not even the main character? For many people, that hits hard during what should be a moment of progress.
Maybe you’ve just started another job everyone says you should want. Your parents are proud. Friends are impressed. And there you are, having what can only be described as an existential crisis.
The truth? You’ve been so busy climbing a ladder that you never stopped to check if it was leaning against the right wall. Every milestone you hit was one that someone else defined for you. Society, family, that one successful friend from university who somehow made everyone else feel inadequate.
Here’s an exercise worth trying. Write down everything you think success means. Then go through each item and ask yourself: “Is this actually what I want, or is this what I think I should want?”
The list usually gets real short, real fast.
Why we chase the wrong definition of success
Here’s what nobody tells you about your 20s and early 30s: it’s basically a pressure cooker of other people’s expectations disguised as “finding yourself.”
We’re bombarded with success stories that follow the same script. Make six figures by 30. Own property. Have the relationship that looks perfect on Instagram. It’s like we’re all following the same GPS coordinates without asking where we actually want to go.
The problem runs deeper than just social media comparison (though that definitely doesn’t help). From the moment we start school, we’re taught to measure ourselves against external benchmarks. Good grades, good university, good job. It’s a conveyor belt of predetermined goals.
But what happens when you tick all those boxes and still feel empty? That’s when things get interesting.
Psychology research on intrinsic versus extrinsic motivation sheds real light here. When we’re driven purely by external rewards — money, status, approval — we tend to experience less satisfaction even when we achieve our goals. Studies consistently show that people who pursue goals aligned with their personal values and interests report higher well-being than those chasing externally defined benchmarks. For many people, recognizing this distinction is the moment the lightbulb goes off.
Taking the leap into uncertainty
When people finally have this realization, they often do something that looks irrational from the outside. They step off the conveyor belt. Maybe they take a less prestigious job. Maybe they start a side project. Maybe they just stop saying yes to things that drain them.
There’s something profoundly humbling about stripping away pretense. When you step out of the achievement race, no one cares about your LinkedIn profile or five-year plan. They care if you show up and do the work.
And in that space — when your ego gets quiet — clarity tends to emerge. Not the anxious, spinning-wheels kind of thinking that keeps people up at night. The clear, honest kind that only comes when you stop performing.
That’s often when people start reconnecting with what actually matters. They journal, they reflect, they have honest conversations. Pages and pages of thoughts about what truly matters. Who they actually are beneath all the borrowed dreams.
The radical decisions that change everything
For some people, finding their own path means making a big move. Traveling. Changing careers entirely. Starting something from scratch with no grand plan and no safety net.
What these people often discover is that there’s a whole world of individuals who measure success differently. People who value family dinners over salary figures. People who’ve traded corner offices for coffee shops where they can work on passion projects. There’s an entire community of people who’ve opted out of the traditional success narrative — and they’re not failures. They’re some of the most fulfilled people you’ll meet.
I know this from my own experience. When I founded Hack Spirit, it wasn’t because it would look good on a resume. It was because I genuinely wanted to create something that mattered. I’d spent time feeling uncertain about the conventional path, despite doing many things “right.” I knew there had to be others out there feeling the same way — people who needed practical psychology-based advice, not just inspirational quotes over sunset photos.
The website grew slowly at first. There were months where I questioned everything. But that doubt felt different from the doubt of chasing someone else’s dream. It wasn’t “am I impressing the right people?” It was “am I creating something valuable?”
In my book, “Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego,” I write about the concept of non-attachment. It’s not about not caring. It’s about caring deeply while holding things lightly. That became my new approach to success — and it’s a framework I think can help anyone who’s stuck chasing someone else’s definition.
What real success looks like (hint: it’s different for everyone)
For me, at 37, success looks like writing articles like this at 6 AM because I want to, not because I have to. It’s having deep conversations with my wife about philosophy over coffee. It’s knowing that my work helps people, even if it’ll never make me a millionaire. It’s being present for my daughter instead of constantly chasing the next achievement.
The metrics have completely changed. Instead of salary benchmarks and job titles, I measure success by how often I feel aligned with my values. How much time I spend doing work that energizes rather than depletes me. How present I can be in my actual life.
Research backs this up. A well-known study by psychologists Tim Kasser and Richard Ryan found that people who prioritize intrinsic goals — personal growth, meaningful relationships, community contribution — consistently report greater life satisfaction than those focused on wealth, fame, and image. It’s not that practical concerns don’t matter. Bills need paying. But they’re logistics in service of a bigger picture that you’ve actually painted yourself.
Final words
If you’re reading this and feeling that familiar discomfort of living someone else’s version of success, know that you’re not broken. You’re waking up.
The path to finding your own definition isn’t neat or linear. It might involve some seemingly crazy decisions. It definitely involves disappointing some people. It always involves getting comfortable with uncertainty.
But here’s what I’ve learned from years of studying psychology and writing about personal growth: the success that actually fulfills you is worth the messy journey to find it. It’s worth the confusion and the uncertain periods and the puzzled looks from relatives.
Start small if you need to. Question one assumption about what you “should” want. Write down what actually makes you feel alive versus what just looks good on paper. Pay attention to the moments when you lose track of time because you’re so engaged.
Your version of success is out there, waiting. It just might look nothing like what you expected — and that’s exactly the point.