The Lonely Path to Success

Growing up I had a misguided view of success

Growing up, success meant one thing, and one thing only… having a good job! Unfortunately this meant sacrificing other things to take the lonely path to success.

Sure, you wanted to enjoy life and be a good person, but the epitome of success was having a good job. We judged many of our friends and family by their job.

Please don’t think my family was greedy or only focused on money. We just came from lower incomes, and having a steady paycheck was a luxury. At my roots, both of my great grandparents were farmers in the Midwest. My grandparents on my father’s side stuck to the farming tradition and coal mining. And my grandpa from my mother’s side broke away from the farm life to become an accountant and eventually open up his own practice.

Many of my extended family members are working class. My parent’s generation typically worked factory jobs and the like. They were hit pretty hard when factory work moved out of the States. Many found other working-class jobs that paid the bills, but they were always a couple of paychecks away from pretty devastating poverty.

And while I have incredibly fond memories of my extended family, enjoying barbeques, bonfires and family game nights, I also remember that money was a constant undercurrent of the conversation. A concern that was in the back of their minds.

Pretty much all of my extended family never left the small Midwestern town they were born in. Annual vacations were typically spent camping near a local lake. Conversation centered around local gossip.

Then there were my parents. They jokingly called themselves the “black sheep” of the family… both wanted to leave town and explore the world when they were younger, and explore they did. I explored much of the United States, lived in (I think) nine states and vacationed in Hawaii and Mexico. All before I was twelve. My dad’s job gave us the opportunity to travel, which was great until it wasn’t. When I was twelve, we settled down in Texas.

As I grew up in Texas, my dad continued to travel for work, and my mom worked part-time at home, and I started putting together this idea of success.

My parents dreamed of retirement. A time when they could slow down, build a homestead, grow their own food, have all the animals they wanted, not be able to see their neighbors, watch all the movies they wanted and do whatever they wanted. They dreamed of free time… they dreamed of freedom.

Success meant securing that freedom and retirement with a good job. Get into a good college, get good grades, then get a good job after college. Work your way up the corporate ladder, buy a house, and invest in your 401(k). Coast on your steady income until you hit that precious retirement age and can finally start *enjoying* your life.

Growing up, being able to enjoy your life and time off, earning those coveted golden years, was the ultimate luxury – and goal of life. It was the reward after a long career of being loyal to a company and working hard.

But early on, I discovered that life does not always go as planned. And that the lonely path to success I observed growing up might not be the best path to take.

My dad was laid off before I finished high school. Over two decades working for one company, only to get a pink slip shortly before retirement. Boom. Just like that.

He took the news pretty well, deciding to take some time and fix up the house, maybe start his own company. He had so much experience managing large construction projects, he could do some work on the side to keep him busy. Plus, he had his 401(k). He had invested heavily in his company for years, and even though he lost his job earlier than expected, looking at that nest egg made him feel better.

Then his company went bust. And that nest egg dwindled down. Quickly.

He didn’t lose everything, but he sure did lose a lot. And even though he took it well, I could tell it was a big psychological hit. He started channeling that extra time and energy into projects around the house, but I could tell they weren’t as easy as he thought they would be.

He still saw himself as a twenty-year-old, with a fit body and all the energy in the world. As someone approaching forty, I can relate to this now better than I could at the time. When laying down wood floors, kneeling for long periods of time hurt his knees. Morbidly obese, he struggled to move the way he used to. Projects that he thought would take him two days ended up taking two weeks.

I didn’t immediately recognize the lessons this experience gave me at the time. But as I got older, I started to understand what my dad gave up to pursue success. How tragic his lonely path to success must have been.

He gave up his health. Years working 14+ hour days, travelling 21+ days out of the month, living off fast food and getting little to no exercise impacted his health and mobility.

He gave up his money. Believing in one company so much meant he put all of his financial eggs in one basket. When that basket didn’t hold up over the test of time, he lost a huge portion of his wealth in a matter of weeks.

And he gave up his time. Working on the road meant more money for the family. It also meant he missed his family and friends, and even the mundane experiences many people take for granted. I remember a small handful of family vacations we took – mostly to visit our family up north during the holidays, and a family favorite week-long vacation to Kauai. Most of the communication we had as a family was over the phone, and by the time he was ready to settle down back home, I was getting ready for college.

Right around the time my dad was laid off, my mom finished her bachelor’s degree in Information Systems. She struggled to find work in Texas, but eventually landed a job in California. With a pretty big and well known company. Since I was just starting college, I stayed at home in Texas with my dad. My mom drove to California, found a converted garage studio apartment (and paid a ridiculous rent for it) and began her first job in the IT world.

She was a success!

A mother who went back to school when her child was in middle school, got a degree in IT – a predominantly male industry – and got a job in a big corporation in California. Just another sign of success in America. All she had to do was sacrifice her evenings to get her degree, then leave her family and move halfway across the country to land her first job. Another tragic sacrifice on the lonely path to success.

Beginning my freshman year in college, I worked part-time as an administrative assistant. This was after a couple of years working in fast food while in high school. I really hated high school. The classes felt like a repeat of middle school, and I hated wasting away my days there. I hung out with a group of “bad kids”, started skipping classes, dressing like a goth crossed with a heavy metal musician, and doing drugs.

Granted, I didn’t go off the *deep* end like some kids getting into heavy drugs, stealing, going to jail, etc… but I definitely got into some shenanigans. But even then, getting a job to save up for a car was paramount in my mind. A car meant freedom.

I finally bought a minivan from my parents before college – right around the same time I started to cut ties with some bad influences of all kinds, and get a more business-centered job. Even this seemed like a step in the right direction – a job where I didn’t have to wear a uniform with a name tag, applying to my local university to get a degree – I was working my way towards success.

And my idea of success at the time?

  • Get into college and ace all of my classes
  • Land a good job so I can make a lot of money
  • Buy a new car! No more used Toyota Previa Minivan…
  • Get my own apartment where I can party with my friends, with new furniture – get rid of my futon
  • Make enough money to go out every weekend, go to concerts, drink every weekend and power through the workweek
  • Find a boyfriend
  • Lose weight, get a killer bikini body to attract said boyfriend

Not exactly in that order. I can’t speak for everyone, but this is what success looked like to me at eighteen.

I had so much to learn… so much opportunity to grow… and so many mistakes to make until I found the path towards a life that’s just one percent better everyday.