I’m not successful. In comparison to “successful” people I’m not even on the same playing field. Not even close.

Yet I’m succeeding everyday.

I mean just how many ways are there to measure success?

You know what defines success to me?

Growth.

As long as you’re growing you’re succeeding in my book. Not in the literal physical way….that would be terrifying. A human that never stops growing. Yikes.

No I’m talking about intellectual growth. Emotional growth. Understanding just who the fuck you are. Finding yourself as cliché as that might sound.

What have you been through and how did those experiences shape you?

Did you endure or did you crumble?

Maybe the memories or emotions tied to these past experiences are holding you back.

Maybe you don’t know yourself yet.

I know myself and that’s why in my opinion I’ve found success.

I’m going to tell you two things that were holding me back from getting to know the real me.

The first.

I had to forget about where I came from.

That probably sounds bad so let me explain.

I was born and raised in a town of 3,000 people in Northern California. A small logging town nestled in the Emerald Triangle. You either work a 9-5 or you grow weed. Maybe you do both. So growing up the idea of having a career that revolved around my own creativity such as writing seemed absurd. No one in my hometown does it so obviously I’m not going to be able to pull it off.

That is what I had to forget about. I had to tell that state of mind to fuck off.

I love where I’m from and I wouldn’t change my upbringing for anything. However, my hometown doesn’t define who I am. So what I don’t know anyone from back home that pursued this. So what I don’t have anyone to go to for points and advice.

That’s what I mean when I say that I had to forget where I came from. Just because I don’t know anyone who tried in the past doesn’t mean I can’t try myself.

If I succeed great. If I fail also great. I can learn from failure. That’s growth.
The second thing.

I had to come to terms that nobody is going to give a fuck about your dreams the way that you do.

You know when you tell a friend or your significant other about a dream you had in your sleep? They never think it’s as interesting, scary, weird, or funny as you might. It’s usually always the old half-hearted “oh wow that’s crazy” response.

This happened to me while I was telling a good friend about a writing project I was working on. Just like the sleep dream response I got a pretty unenthusiastic “sounds neat”.

As much as this felt like a kick in the ole testes it was probably the best thing that could have happened.

It made me realize that no one is going to do this for me. Nobody is going to push me to this dream. Take my hand and lead the way. It’s my dream and passion. Not theirs. I’m the only one that can take the reins.

So again I’m here to try.

If I succeed great. If I fail also great. I can learn from failure.

That’s growth.

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