Often there is a strange feeling that comes creeping on you when you finally get something you have wanted for a very long time. The feeling of Nothing. Not unhappy or ungrateful but just a slight deflation followed by Oh! Now what?

It can feel fairly disheartening when you have spent years imagining that this whole version of your life would finally make you feel like you have made it. And even more so when you have spent much of your life being underestimated, every achievement can feel like it was carrying the additional burden of proving someone wrong.

I have been thinking about this phrase “Made it” a lot. Made what or where or for whom, exactly?

For most of my life, success came with a fairly well established visual language. The impressive title, the RSU’s, the move to the US, the flashy lifestyle and being able to buy all the beautiful things a little girls heart desires. 

But at my age, I am becoming much more interested in understanding the difference between wanting something because it brings me joy v.s. wanting something because owning it makes me feel successful.

I read The Art of spending Money by Morgan Housel and understood that those two things can look remarkably similar from the outside.

Perhaps that is why reaching certain milestones can feel strangely underwhelming. We get exactly what we thought we wanted, only to discover that we were chasing the feeling we had attached to it..

Like I feel when I look at the Birkins that hurt my arms and dont have shoulder straps.

The increased scope that was supposed feel important.

The money was supposed to bring security

The expensive things that were supposed to bring a feeling of belonging to a group of people who could afford other expensive things.

And sometimes it does. Until it doesn’t.

I used to think changing what I want meant I was inconsistent. Now I think it might simply mean I am paying attention to how I feel and I am willing to change my habits very quickly v.s. going down the rabbit hole of poor choices to project lifestyle.

The woman I was at 25 needed certain dreams. The woman I was at 35 needed others. It would be rather odd if, at 42, I was still blindly executing a life plan written by either of them.

We talk endlessly about having the courage to chase our dreams. Perhaps there is just as much courage in admitting that a dream has stopped bringing us joy. That doesn’t make the achievement meaningless. It doesn’t make us ungrateful and it certainly doesn’t mean we should stop wanting beautiful, ambitious and occasionally ridiculous things.

It just means we should often ask ourselves a deeply inconvenient question. Do I still want this or do I just want what I think it says about me?

Maybe having “made it” isn’t reaching some permanent summit of success. Maybe it is having enough confidence, freedom and self awareness to keep redefining the summit. Even if you slip sometimes into old habits and wish for a mini Kelly that cannot hold 2 lipsticks and a phone.

Till later!