You set a goal.
You achieved it.
You felt happy.
Repeat.
It sounds obvious now, but when I was younger, I didn’t question it. Looking back, almost every major decision I made was built on that equation.
If I made the Paralympic Team...
If I won a World Championship...
If I built a successful career...
If I found the right relationship...
Then I’d finally arrive. And for a while, it worked.
Yes. Crossing a finish line feels incredible. So does getting a promotion or checking a goal off the list. But that feeling always leaves.
Not because the achievement wasn’t meaningful, but because happiness isn’t meant to stay. It’s a feeling. They come, they go and somewhere along the way, I confused an emotion with a destination. I’d try to hunt it down again.
Another title.
Another accomplishment.
For years, that strategy looked successful from the outside.
Cancer survivor.
Paralympian.
World Champion.
An MBA.
Business owner.
Every chapter added another label. But slowly, one by one, the domino’s started to fall.
My body quit and forced me to walk away from snowboarding.
My abusive relationship ended.
And for a while I thought I was healing.
Then came the layoff and the quiet became louder. I finally had to sit with myself, completely. Not the survivor. Not the athlete. Not the woman with degrees and a résumé.
Just me.
And I realized I’d spent decades chasing happiness...when what I actually wanted was peace.
Peace doesn’t show up because we accomplished something. It shows up when we stop needing accomplishments to tell us who we are. Peace is walking into a room without needing to prove anything. It’s sitting still without feeling guilty.
It’s believing your worth doesn’t rise and fall with your résumé.
I still love goals. I always will. They’re part of who I am. But I don’t expect them to complete me. They’re things I pursue. Not things I become.
Maybe that’s what emotional maturity really is.
It’s finding something quieter. Something steadier. And I think that’s peace.
For the first time in my life...that’s what I’m chasing.
