Success doesn’t have to make us suffer. Question the expectations we’ve inherited, and explore what it means to define success on your own terms.
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19 Jan 2026
7 Min Read
Emma Chee Luo Yi (Contributing Writer)
Success doesn’t have to make us suffer. Question the expectations we’ve inherited, and explore what it means to define success on your own terms.
I have a confession to make: staying busy used to feel like proof that I was a success.
If you’ve ever seen that meme of a Google Calendar filled with rainbow-coloured blocks, captioned, ‘How can I meet my friends when I don’t even have time to see myself?’, then you already know what my college years looked like. A-Levels? Check. Five clubs and societies? Check. Competitions and tuition wedged between classes? Check and check. I overextended myself every day, but the praise for my grit, the pride of an expanding network, and the approval of others felt addictive. Achievement was my emotional caffeine—I couldn’t function without it.
Naturally, this burnout-now-and-bounce-back-later lifestyle followed me into university. A packed schedule meant I was achieving; an empty one meant I wasn’t doing enough. On paper, everything seemed to be going my way: a shiny postgraduate degree, a well-paid part-time job, and an exciting friend group. Then, 22 arrived like a plot twist—for the first time, pushing myself past my limits didn’t lead to a comeback arc for months.
You might think this is just another story of unhealthy hustle culture, the kind you scroll past on a Monday morning. But living through it felt too real, too painful, and far too common to ignore. The weight of it all forced me to pause and ask myself: How did this happen? What beliefs was I living by, and why did this drive for success once feel so normal?
Let’s be honest: the hustle culture we’re drowning in didn’t start with LinkedIn. A lot of it comes from the way many of us were raised—especially in Asian families that meant well but pushed hard. If any of these ring a bell, you’re in good company:
When success turns into a performance instead of a personal journey, the price comes due. Mental health takes a hit, identities begin to blur, and even our bodies start to protest. Here’s how it shows up:
The internet has no shortage of posts exposing outdated success models and the education system behind them. The old blueprint is cracking, but noticing the cracks isn’t enough. To build something that actually works for our lives, we need to redefine success, starting at the foundation:
‘Do the kinds of things that come from the heart. When you do, you won’t be dissatisfied, you won’t be envious, you won’t be longing for somebody else’s things. On the contrary, you'll be overwhelmed with what comes back.’ – Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom
Redefining success isn’t a single epiphany—it’s a daily practice. And no, you’re not meant to have all the answers at 16, 19, or even 22. But you can start with a simple question: Is the blueprint of success you’re following truly yours, or someone else’s?
Answering that question for myself meant being vulnerable about my feelings, my limits, and what I truly wanted. At 22, I hit my lowest point, but admitting that the path I was on didn’t align with who I really was changed everything. I asked for help, let go of commitments and relationships that no longer served me, and opened myself to new possibilities. In many ways, it felt like my life was only just beginning.
That’s what success feels like when it’s truly yours—not in the awards, the grades, or the accolades, but in the quiet courage to be honest with yourself and live a life only you can lead.
Emma Chee Luo Yi pursued Cambridge A Level at Taylor's College before attending the University of Western Australia. A Master of Strategic Communication student with an artistic soul, she studies during the day and writes, draws, or crochets at night!