Recipe for Success
How I went from bingeing on external approval to nourishing myself with internal satisfaction
“Sarah is 5 going on 30. She was a leader in class today. She’s going to be very successful.”
These are the words my kindergarten teacher spoke to my mom when she came to pick me up on my first day of school. My mom smiled down at me and I knew I had done something right.
When we got into the car I asked my mom what it meant. She explained, “It means you’re very grown up and that you like to be the boss. It’s a recipe for success.” My parents talked about their bosses often, saying things like, “It must be nice at the top.” My five-year old brain was putting two and two together - maybe I could be at the top someday. It was at this moment in my life that I thought the ingredients for success revealed themselves: be a leader, be the boss, be at the top.
In my mid-twenties, I was still clinging to 5-year old Sarah’s recipe. All I wanted was to get promoted because it would put me closer to the top. What was I doing to get there? Working 60+ hours a week, over-performing, people pleasing, and being available around the clock. It worked. I moved up. And, never satisfied, I kept pushing to get my next promotion. It was my only priority.
All I wanted was to get promoted because it would put me closer to the top. What was I doing to get there? Working 60+ hours a week, over-performing, people pleasing, and being available around the clock.
Then, when I was 26, my dad killed himself. My body literally collapsed to the ground when I got the call at work that he died. I’ll never forget it. I can still feel the sting of the bristly office carpet beneath my bare knees. I can feel the red hot heat that spread across my face and the immediate shivering of my entire body that followed. I can feel the knot in my throat and the gasp for air that comes with hyperventilation. Equally memorable was the thought that entered my mind when I was on the floor: “If I don’t get up, I’m going to be late for my next meeting.” Because, bosses don’t rest (certainly, none of mine did). And if I was going to be a CEO someday, I had better act like one.
Collapsing to the ground the day my dad died wasn’t my body’s only reaction to the trauma. For months, I literally couldn’t eat anything without getting terribly sick. I was eventually diagnosed with my first autoimmune disease (celiac disease), but I didn’t think much of it. I gave up gluten (as one is told to do) and I kept moving.
Today, I would tell 28-year old me to slow down, listen to her body, and listen to her inner voice reminding her that prioritizing health didn’t have to mean a reduction in work ethic. Because her definition of success and her recipe for it were putting her down the wrong path. But, here we are, so let’s keep going, shall we? I got my second promotion shortly after my dad died. Then, the company I was working for got acquired and that was a serious marker for success. So, I kept going.
Today, I would tell 28-year old me to slow down, listen to her body, and listen to her inner voice reminding her that prioritizing health didn’t have to mean a reduction in work ethic. Because her definition of success and her recipe for it were putting her down the wrong path.
I moved onto another startup, got a title bump, a pay raise, and reinforced that this recipe was working. I continued to work myself to the bone, please everyone around me, and collect loads of external validation. Friends and family praised me, colleagues admired me, I was young and climbing up and up and up that golden corporate ladder. This startup also got acquired. 2 for 2, baby!
My ego was drowning in pleasure. But, looking back, my authentic voice was always calmly reminding me to reassess but I’d locked her in a soundproof room. She didn’t like this recipe and wanted me to create a new one, but my ego couldn’t be bothered with that. Never mind that I’d been battling chronic hives for months with no relief or answers. Or that I couldn’t eat anything without looking 6 months pregnant after I was done, or that I was having panic attacks almost daily. According to my recipe, I was cooking the exact right dish even if it was making me ill.
And then it hit. Covid lockdown. My authentic voice escaped her soundproof room. Suddenly, I woke up. It was like being snapped out of hypnosis. Maybe it was because there was a sudden international focus on a mysterious illness, or because I was facing my own mysterious illness. After months of exploration, I was finally diagnosed with additional autoimmune diseases. Diseases that are chronic. Diseases that have no cure. And, in what felt like an instant, my definition of success completely changed. I suddenly had to prioritize healing myself and doing it in a way that I could manage for the rest of my life. Just like that, career success alone was no longer my desired meal, so my recipe had to change.
My recipe for success was full of unhealthy, ego-driven ingredients like praise from superiors, promotions, and money. I had to develop a new recipe that included wholesome internal ingredients like keeping my promises to myself and setting boundaries around my time to make sure I could focus on my wellness.
I knew I didn’t want to follow the suggested treatment of pharmaceutical drugs for the rest of my life. Which meant I had to figure out how to change my diet, my sleeping habits, my fitness, my thought processes - the list went on and on. This felt impossible because up until this point, my whole life was work. My recipe for success was full of unhealthy, ego-driven ingredients like praise from superiors, promotions, and money. It’s all I thought about and it’s all I spent my time on. I had to develop a new recipe that included wholesome internal ingredients like keeping my promises to myself, setting boundaries around my time to make sure I could focus on my wellness practices, and saying no to events that I knew would exhaust me (work included). My recipe could no longer include ingredients from everyone else, but rather, it had to be developed and written by me.
Today, I am 37 going on 70 because I see a lot of wisdom in people who don’t center their lives on work alone (wisdom, I find, that is gained only upon reflection of a life lived working). I’ve remade success for myself. I am still ambitious and career-driven, I’m a leader, but my recipe is now centered on how work feels for me, how significant of an impact I can have on the people I’m with, and how it can support my life goals. A successful day is one where I’ve prioritized my health, fulfilled my commitments to myself, and have been able to practice presence and focus at work and outside of it.
I’ve remade success for myself. I am still ambitious and career-driven, but my recipe for that is centered on how work feels for me, how significant of an impact I can have on the people I’m with, and how it can support my life goals.
Success is no longer about getting approval, climbing the corporate ladder, or endlessly trying to please everyone around me. It’s about being rooted in my boundaries, values, and engaging in activities that fulfill me so I can help fulfill others. It’s a much tastier and more satisfying recipe. I highly recommend it.