Success Without Fulfillment is Meaningless

In my last post, I shared what it took to understand that being trustworthy matters more than being liked, and that kindness doesn't always mean being available, agreeable, or self-sacrificing. That shift didn’t happen overnight. It was earned, over time, in the quiet realizations that came after exhaustion.

It started with this: I built a version of success that looked great on the outside but I felt like a failure on the inside.

As a studio owner and dance educator, I thought I knew what success looked like at its core: a busy and packed studio. On the outside, it looked like everything was thriving. On the inside? I was running on fumes. Nearly all of my classes were waitlisted and a I had a calendar with no space to breathe. Behind every polished moment was a stack of unmet needs, unspoken frustration, and the pressure to be grateful even while drowning.

I said yes to every opportunity, every late-night email, every request for an extra rehearsal. I thought that was the job. I thought that was leadership. I never lost sight of my “why” (I’ve always known the kind of impact I want to make through this work), but I let other voices convince me it wasn’t enough unless it came with certain optics. More hours. More output. More everything. I kept piling it on, telling myself I was staying true to my purpose-- until I realized I was too depleted to actually live it out.

That was the turning point. Not a loss of purpose, but the hard truth that I couldn’t keep doing everything and still claim to lead with intention. Something had to give. Ironically, what had to go was all the stuff that looked like success, but didn’t feel like it.

When I finally cleared the noise, the answers were still there as they always were--

• The student who finds their voice in the classroom.

• The parent who tells me their child feels like dance is home.

• The moments of shared laughter, breakthrough, and presence.

That’s what fills my tank. That’s my definition of success. It helped me reframe how I lead-- not just in the classroom-- but throughout my studio community.

Fulfillment isn’t a reward unlocked once I’ve done “enough.” It’s a compass. It shapes how I teach, manage, and show up for everyone, including myself.

Success without fulfillment? That’s just burnout in disguise.

Success with fulfillment? That’s purpose, legacy and, most importantly, it's sustainable.

Are you in a season of redefining what success means to you? How are you navigating fulfillment in you own work?