I once met a man in an airport lounge who wore a suit so sharp it could shave your soul. He had slick hair, a gold watch the size of a moon crater, and a Bluetooth earpiece blinking like a smug little UFO orbiting his face. He said things like ѻýsynergy,ѻý ѻýleverage,ѻý and ѻýletѻýs touch base offline,ѻý which is corporate for ѻýplease donѻýt call me, Iѻým very busy adding no value anywhere.ѻý
I asked him what he did, and he said, ѻýI empower verticals.ѻý
I blinked. He winked. And somewhere in the distance, a PowerPoint presentation wept.
That, my friends, was the moment I knew: we live in an era where looking successful is a profession unto itself, and actually being successful is something you try to squeeze in between yoga and your fourth Zoom call with a guy named Sterling.
Looking successful is easy. A leased Tesla, a cornflower blue blazer, and a bio that says ѻýstrategic advisorѻý to something vague and possibly made of vapour. But real success? Thatѻýs a garage band. Itѻýs a sweaty melody. Itѻýs unshaven in ripped jeans. It smells like burnt coffee, missed calls, and hope. Itѻýs waking up at 2am in a panic because you just remembered you forgot to invoice anyone for anything last month.
Real success is independence. Not just financial ѻý though thatѻýs nice, and helps when you want guacamole and rent ѻý but mental. Itѻýs freedom from performative nonsense. Itѻýs not having to say ѻýcircle backѻý unless youѻýre talking about a failed moon landing. Itѻýs the quiet power of saying no, of walking away, of choosing your chaos instead of someone elseѻýs calendar.
See, independence doesnѻýt photograph well. Itѻýs not glamorous. It doesnѻýt have an elevator pitch. But itѻýs the warm, perfectly pitched hum of knowing you donѻýt need to ask permission. You donѻýt need Sterlingѻýs approval. You donѻýt have to wear a suit unless itѻýs a court appearance or a funeral.
The trick is that fake success is loud. It's in your face. It's all caps and glossy and smells faintly of a cologne called ѻýExecutive Vision.ѻý Real success is subtle. It doesnѻýt post about itself. It doesnѻýt need followers. Itѻýs the ability to spend an entire Tuesday fixing a clientѻýs broken project and adding real value without a single meeting, memo, or middle manager.
Looking successful is exhausting. Youѻýve got to keep the illusion polished, the mask smiling, the metrics vaguely inflated. But being successful? Thatѻýs calm. Thatѻýs knowing your bills are paid and your time is yours. Thatѻýs sipping bad coffee and smiling because the company you built ѻý the weird, rarely understood, yet beautiful enterprise ѻý is actually working and adding value.
So, forget the slick blazer guy in the lounge. The wristwatch is probably leased, too. The ѻýsynergyѻý is a hologram. My friends, If you are looking for an example of success while you wait for your next flight, look for someone with ink on their fingers, a wild look in their eyes, and a deep, unshakable grin of success because they know:
They donѻýt have a boss.ѻýThey are the boss, which is far more valuable
And they wore ripped jeans to work ѻý on purpose.
Douglas Zhivago