What success actually is:

I’ve been chasing “success” for about 20 years.

For a long time, I thought owning a business meant I made it. I thought making money—especially a lot of money—was the finish line. But I’m telling you straight: that isn’t success.

Here’s what success looks like to me:

  • Living with real joy, even when life gets messy
  • Being able to take care of your kids
  • Having a marriage where both of you are genuinely happy
  • Having freedom when you need it—not just when you “earn it”

Those are just a few examples, but they matter more than the scoreboard stuff.

The problem is, we often teach our kids that a good job and good money are the root of success. But if that’s the whole definition, what happens to your mental health? What happens to your peace?

In The Gap and the Gain, Dan Sullivan talks about two ways people measure themselves:

  • The Gap: comparing yourself to an ideal version of life you haven’t reached yet
  • The Gain: comparing yourself to where you started—and seeing how far you’ve come

When you live in the gap, it’s never enough. The goalposts keep moving, and you stay frustrated even while you’re improving.

Why this matters

Be honest: isn’t it easier to look back at where you started and compare it to where you are now… than to compare where you are to some perfect future version of you?

Sit on that for a second.

One way of thinking brings pressure. The other brings progress.

Let me show you what I mean:

Example 1 (The Gap):

“Last year I only did $100,000 in business. That’s not enough. My goal was $300,000.”

Example 2 (The Gain):

“Last year I did $100,000. The year before that we did $25,000. That’s a 400% increase year over year.”

Same numbers. Totally different mindset.

Example 1 makes you feel behind. Example 2 shows you you’re actually building something.

If you always think like Example 1, you might be chasing “greener grass” forever—because you’ll never let your current life count.

Re-evaluate every 6 months

Every six months, look back and remember where you started. It’s humbling. It keeps you grounded. And it reminds you that growth is real—even if it doesn’t feel dramatic day-to-day.

When you’re staring at your next goal from two inches away, you stop noticing the mountain you already climbed.

And here’s the part I don’t want you to forget:

Everything is a milestone.
Every lesson. Every failure. Every win.
It all counts.

Like what you read?