Success Looks Different When You've Faced Your Mortality
How Cancer Redefined What Success Really Means
I've noticed something over the past year.
Some of my most-read posts have been the ones where I've shared parts of my cancer journey. Honestly, I don't think it's because people want to read about cancer. I think it's because those posts start conversations about things we don't talk about enough: perspective, priorities, fear, gratitude, and what really matters when life forces you to slow down.
So, here I am again, mixing my favorite topics: cancer, life lessons, and the messy journey of figuring it all out.
Today, I want to talk about success.
Because if there's one thing that changed after my diagnosis, it was my definition of what a successful life actually looks like.
Before Cancer, Success Was Easy to Define
Promotion? Success.
Big project? Success.
Crossed something off my goals list? Success.
Added another item to my résumé? Success.
Basically, if I could put it on LinkedIn, I considered it a win.
And listen, I still love a good accomplishment. I still get excited about new opportunities, growth, challenging projects, and pursuing big goals. That part of me didn't disappear.
But something shifted.
When you've sat in doctor's offices waiting for results, when you've had moments when your future suddenly feels uncertain, and when you've been reminded that life is fragile, you stop measuring success only by what you achieve.
You start measuring it by what you get to experience.
These Days, Some of My Biggest Wins Would Look Ridiculously Small to My Younger Self
Success is waking up with energy.
Not coffee-fueled, running-on-survival energy. Real energy. The kind where your body feels strong and you don't immediately start negotiating with yourself about how many naps you'll need to make it through the day.
If you've never struggled with your health, that might sound like a strange thing to celebrate. But trust me, there was a time when feeling "normal" felt impossible.
Now, it feels like a gift.
Success is sitting on the beach and actually being on the beach.
Not mentally answering emails. Not creating a to-do list in my head. Not planning next month's projects.
Just sitting there, listening to the waves, and appreciating the fact that I'm healthy enough to be there.
And for the record, this is still a work in progress.
My brain likes productivity a little too much. I can be staring at the ocean and suddenly remember an email I forgot to send three weeks ago.
Growth isn't always linear.
Success is laughing with people I love until my cheeks hurt.
Success is booking the trip, taking the walk, watching the sunset, calling a friend, and reading a book for no reason other than enjoying it.
Success is being fully present in moments that I used to rush through.
Because here's the thing nobody tells you: when you're busy building a life, it's very easy to forget to live it.
I spent years chasing the next thing.
The next goal.
The next accomplishment.
The next milestone.
And while ambition has helped me grow in incredible ways, cancer taught me that life isn't something that happens after you achieve all your goals.
Life is happening right now.
In the quiet moments.
In the ordinary days.
In the random Tuesday evenings.
In the conversations over coffee.
In the walks, the laughter, the beach days, the road trips, and the people sitting across the table from you.
That's where life happens.
And maybe that's why my definition of success looks so different today.
Of course I celebrate the promotions.
Of course I celebrate the accomplishments.
Of course I celebrate the goals reached and the dreams realized.
But I also celebrate clear scans.
A healthy body.
A peaceful morning.
Enough energy to enjoy the day.
A beautiful sunset.
A belly laugh.
A beach chair and absolutely nowhere to be.
Because after you've been reminded that tomorrow isn't guaranteed, you realize something important:
Success isn't just about building a beautiful life. It's about being healthy, present, and grateful enough to enjoy it.
And honestly?
That's the kind of success I wish I had been chasing all along.
