Finding Success When You Feel Like You’re Falling Behind

A reflection on comparison, purpose, and learning to measure success differently

A few weeks ago, I found myself sitting in a familiar but uncomfortable place—the feeling of failure.

I thought I had a path laid out for me. A clear direction. Something I could follow with confidence. But that path no longer exists, and I now find myself on a new one, standing in a liminal space. Somewhere between who I once was and who I am becoming.

In this in-between, it’s easy to fall into comparison. To look at others and measure how far they’ve gone, what they’ve achieved, and how stable their lives appear. I know better than to do this, and yet I still find myself there sometimes.

While I was moving through these emotions—trying to understand them rather than push them away—something strange began to happen. In the span of a single day, I started receiving messages from multiple people, all sharing their personal successes. One after another, as if the universe had decided to place them directly in front of me while I was already spiraling internally.

I’m currently single, so I’m on a dating app. I matched with someone and after a brief exchange, he told me he had recently been offered a position in Hawaii. He no longer lived nearby. He shared the numbers, the benefits, the excitement. All things worth celebrating.

Instead of feeling happy for him, I felt irritated.

Not long after, a friend messaged to tell me he had finally launched his website and that his online store would be available soon. Again, I wanted to feel joy for him—but I struggled.

The feelings continued to build. Irritation. Annoyance. Restlessness. None of it was truly directed at them. It was directed inward.
What am I doing with my life?

I could feel the familiar spirals starting to rise. I tried to think my way out of them, to bypass the discomfort, to rise above the emotions rather than sit with them.

Then I heard from my sister.

She’s in school working toward becoming a drug and alcohol counselor after overcoming her own hardships. She’s currently interning at a residential treatment facility and had been receiving praise from staff and clients alike—handwritten notes about how much she shines and how deeply she impacts those around her.

That was the moment everything cracked open.

I couldn’t hold it together any longer. I wanted so badly to be happy for her, but I knew I wasn’t fully there. So I told her the truth. I explained the feelings of failure I had been sitting in and how I didn’t want to project any of it onto her joy. She deserved more than that.

She met me with understanding and gentleness, and she responded with words that stayed with me:
“Don’t be discouraged, and don’t give up after any attempt just because it doesn’t look the way you want it too.”

I had to sit with that.

When I don’t see immediate results, it’s easy for me to let things go—to assume I’ve failed and move on.

The messages kept coming. Another person reached out to check in and share that they had landed their dream job. By then, the tears were steady. But something had started to shift inside of me. I no longer felt like I was being targeted. I felt like I was being shown something.

So I paused and asked myself: What do I get from all of this?

The answer came all at once.

While I was focused on what I thought I lacked, I was missing what was unfolding right in front of me.

My success comes through the success of others.

I believe my purpose in this life is to be a light—to remind people of who they are, to hold space for their growth, and to reflect their light back to them when they forget it themselves.

Through my own shadows, the universe mirrored back exactly what I had been asking beneath those feelings of failure. In one single day, I was shown who I am and what I do. I create spaces where people feel safe enough to share their joy, their growth, and their wins.

They weren’t coming to me to make me feel small. I was already doing that on my own. They came because I’ve built a space where people want to bring their light.

To me, that is success.

Not material gain.
Not status or money.

But the capacity to hold others in your heart.

If you find yourself stuck in these patterns, I invite you to read Reparenting the Inner Child: From Surviving to Thriving. In it, I explore ways we can move through these heavy feelings that often stem from childhood insecurities.