The space of success: A discovery somewhere along the way

Somewhere along the way, I confused success with permanence. As if it were an island where I would dock forever, a house with doors slowly closing. I watched others build their foundations there, erect their walls, cement their futures. And me? I kept moving, because movement had always been my safety.

But what if success is not a destination? What if it does not mean inevitable settling, but rather a different kind of space? A form of freedom that is not fleeting, but held, grounding without anchoring?

This is my discovery: success is not a cage. It is a landscape that unfolds. The question is not whether I want to arrive, but whether I dare to trust that I can always keep moving, even within that success.

My resistance to success was never truly a no to growth. It was a no to the idea that success would take away my freedom of movement. I had learned to find freedom in the unexpected, in leaving possibilities open. I saw success as a contract with no exit clause, a path that would lock me in.

But was that really true? Or was it just an echo of an old pattern?

I began asking myself a new question: ➡ What if success means I have more options, not fewer? ➡ What if I don’t have to fight it but can relax into it? ➡ What if I can always choose how I let it move?

There was a time when raising my prices felt impossible. I knew my work had value, I saw others doing it, and yet the moment I considered increasing my rates, a wave of resistance crashed in.

What if people judged me? What if they thought I was getting ahead of myself?

What if the very people I had worked for, the ones who had paid me less, saw it and thought, "Who does she think she is?"

But then I asked myself: Was I truly afraid of raising my prices, or was I afraid of stepping into my own worth?

So I tried something different. I let my body feel the discomfort, then I moved into expansion. I straightened my spine. I took up space. I breathed in deeply and told myself: Raising my prices does not make me less free, it allows me to choose who I work with.

And so, I did it. I raised them. And the moment I did, I felt lighter. The cage had never been real.

My mind could understand this, but my body could not. My nervous system perceived success as a threat, a warning signal that kept me in familiar motion. So I started listening differently. Not by thinking harder, but by allowing my body to integrate a new experience.

BREATH
Every time I felt resistance, I breathed. In for 4 seconds. Hold for 4 seconds. Out for 8 seconds. Success can be relaxation. My body learns it first.

FEAR CAN EXPAND
Instead of shrinking, I made my body bigger. Shoulders back, space in my chest. My success is wide, not restrictive. I am allowed to take it in.

REVERSING THE QUESTION
Not: ‘What if success traps me?’ But: ‘What if success gives me more space?’ My perception changes my experience.

Success is not a wall, not a lock, not an obligation. Success is a field where I can choose how to move. Success is a river that follows my rhythm, not the other way around. Success is the invitation to keep discovering, even when I stand still.

And so, I no longer ask myself if I am ready for success.

I ask myself: how much space am I willing to take up today? And you?