At my very first job, I felt like everything was in place for a rocket-speed career boost. I was young, enthusiastic, full of ideas and energy. In the first year, I actively sought challenges and saw every new task as a chance to prove I deserved my spot. Management quickly noticed my drive: I got more and more responsibilities and started climbing the ladder fast.
But as months passed, I began to notice something. The new tasks I received were less about what I was truly good at and passionate about. Instead of creative challenges, I often ended up with monotonous, administrative, or management-type work. These were important for the company, sure, but I didn’t feel that spark of professional excitement that had drawn me to this career in the first place.
It increasingly felt like my energy was being used to fill gaps, not to create real value on my own path.
When I brought this up with my then-boss, he encouraged me: "Hang in there, you have the potential. In a few years, you might even be sitting in my chair!" In that moment, everything became clear because a reflex thought popped up inside me: I don’t want to sit in that chair.
His chair wasn’t a goal I desired. The daily rush, the constant firefighting, the tired look under the weight of responsibility—it wasn’t inspiring to me. His success came at the cost of giving up the creative freedom I had always longed for. It became clear: if I continued down this path, I might end up where he was in a few years, but I’d have to accept losing something truly important to me along the way.
Not long after, I decided to become a freelancer. It was a step into the unknown, full of uncertainty, but one thing was certain: I could finally be my own boss.
Since then, I’ve often watched former colleagues and university classmates speed ahead on the career highway. Today, they hold middle and senior management roles, make important decisions, have impressive offices, and introduce themselves with titles that command instant respect. Not to mention, they enjoy stable, predictable, and quite high salaries. Sometimes I wonder: if I had stayed, I could be where they are now.
But then I always realize: I don’t want to be there.
I chose a different path. One with less conventional success, more challenges, and often more uncertainty. But every step is mine. I decide which projects to take, which direction to go, and who I work with. This path isn’t easier—but it’s mine. And that means everything.
I genuinely celebrate my friends’ and acquaintances’ successes. I truly feel happy for them because I see that what they’ve achieved makes them happy. And that’s the key: they’re walking their own path, and I’m walking mine. Their success is meaningful to them, but it wouldn’t give me the satisfaction they feel.
I believe success isn’t one-size-fits-all. It can’t be measured by a single metric or summed up by a title or salary range. Success is when someone becomes a leader because that’s where they find themselves. And success is also when someone dares to let go of the top of the ladder and choose their own path—even if it’s tougher and less flashy.
