To say that time flies is an understatement.
It felt like just weeks ago I was celebrating my 30th birthday and telling myself that life begins at 30. The next thing I know is that I am turning 31 in a month’s time.
I set out on this life journey wanting to achieve many things.
I started out ambitious, zealous, unrestrained.
I felt that I had the power to make everything go my way and nothing would go wrong.
10 years ago, if you were to ask me, I would not have expected to find myself still unsatisfied, unfulfilled and uncontented with what I have at age 30.
I always felt that I had the capacity for more, but I did not motivate myself enough to achieve what God has planned for me. The lazy bum in me would always do enough just to get by, and always find the easiest way out.
As I age, one thing I learnt, however, is that the definition of success isn’t always about having a premier banking account or expanding your wealth portfolio or traveling business class or wearing a Audemars Piguet on your wrist or getting the keys to your Mercedes-Benz.
A lot has happened over the past couple of months. I got myself in trouble that’s nothing glamorous about.
Only few knew about my struggles and I really appreciate the closest of friends who still accepted me for who I am and stretched an arm out whenever I found myself drowning. It wasn’t before long that my family sensed something was wrong and sat me down to talk about it.
For the past 30 years of my life,
I don’t think I have done anything to be massively proud of.
But if you were to ask me now what I think success is,
Success to me, is to have a bunch of lovely people who always got your back,
And an encouraging and supportive family to go home to.
I think that’s more than enough.