For as long as I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with excellence — chasing straight A’s, aiming for perfection on every test and pushing myself to always be the best. I was my high school’s salutatorian and currently spend my college nights studying to be a top student. I hope that when I eventually enter a career, I can make a difference in the world around me. This has been how I view and aim for success in my life.
Indeed, what is success? Is it those external achievements, like making top marks in school, or is it a more profound sense of fulfillment, like feeling like you’ve made a difference in the world? Is success measurable, or is it more of a philosophical concept, unable to be quantified?
Everyone views success differently. While my idea of success centers around being a high-achieving student, others my age may feel most successful in different situations. My first step to success after high school was going off to college and seeking higher education, but to someone else, it might have been enlisting in the military or entering a trade. Everyone is on a different path, making a universal definition of success difficult to find. Merriam-Webster defines success as a “favorable or desired outcome, also: the attainment of wealth, favor, or eminence.” This definition opens up the word to different applications by different people, as the most favorable outcome for you may not be the most favorable outcome for me, and vice versa. Culturally, socially and personally, everyone will have different “favorable” and “desirable” outcomes, leaving the definition of success open for everyone, ironically preventing the universal, concrete application of a definition. In my life, making a difference is the most desirable outcome.
However, in a world bombarded by media, this definition will be skewed, making it ever more critical for individuals to formulate their own unique independent definition of success. You can open up Instagram anytime and see a flood of acquaintances going on extravagant vacations and buying expensive items — they may seem highly successful, being able to live so lavishly, and this can make you want to work toward similar things and feel unsuccessful unless you can afford that Rolex or trip to Bora Bora.
In a media-obsessed society, we continue to buy material items to impress those around us, leaving us constantly looking for more. While those things can bring you immediate pleasure, they can never fill the void inside that being genuinely successful can, leaving you with a lack of long-term, lasting pleasure. While material items can make you happy at the moment when you reflect on your life, what you bought is not going to be what’s most important to you — what you’ve accomplished will be. Confirmed in a report in the Association for Psychological Science — “Simply having a bunch of things is not the key to happiness.”
Studies show that true happiness and fulfillment often come from deeper sources. In a Harvard Grant study, researchers followed the same group of men for almost 80 years to try to uncover what leads to a happier life. The results? “Close relationships, more than money or fame, are what keep people happy throughout their lives. Those ties protect people from life’s discontents, help to delay mental and physical decline, and are better predictors of long and happy lives than social class, IQ, or even genes.” It’s important to mention that money and social class still play a role in the maintenance of close relationships as they influence the ability to spend time with family and friends, for example during the holidays instead of at work. Nevertheless, it cannot be said that wealth alone is enough. The more external, material definition of success is inadequate — you will never be happy if all you aim for is possessing material items to show your success. Instead, finding a solid group of friends, forming close family bonds or kindling a romantic relationship have further influence on your overall happiness.
Ultimately, I’ve come to believe that success isn’t about external markers like grades or accolades. While these markers can serve as helpful milestones, they should never be the sole definition of success. The internal fulfillment gives them true meaning — living a life that aligns, and at the end of the day, I care about test scores or class rank because they are milestones toward a bigger goal — making a difference in the world. I will never truly feel the emptiness inside me filled until I make a meaningful impact — a sense of purpose that grades or accolades can’t quantify. Yet, without those smaller milestones, I would never feel like I’ve accomplished anything or that I’ve made strides toward success, and I may never be able to quantify how “meaningful” my impact on the world is. As long as I’m alive I will continue working to make a difference, making it difficult to ever feel accomplished, so those smaller milestones are necessary not to quantify my success, but to show that I am making progress toward my goals. In using these external markers only sparingly, I ensure I am on the right track and I am motivated for the overarching goal.
As stated by Jennefer Witter, “More authentic action, understanding, education, and equal opportunities for everyone is a definition of success that I choose to live by.” To me, this is what it means to make a difference in the world around us, which is the core of my personal definition of success. In my life, I plan to take the pressure to reach those external achievements off of myself and focus mainly on internal gratification, and I urge you all to do the same. Success shouldn’t be about checking boxes or seeking validation from others — it’s about the relationships we build, our impact and the peace we feel with ourselves. As we navigate our paths, let’s redefine success on our own terms and prioritize what truly brings us fulfillment.
Danica Lyktey is a freshman majoring in psychology.
Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.