The public loves someone on the climb because their journey is relatable and reflects their own aspirations. Once that person achieves success, the dynamic shifts from aspirational to rivalrous, as they now represent what others failed to achieve.
Constantly focusing on self-improvement can be a defense mechanism. It allows individuals to postpone self-acceptance by placing their self-worth in a future, improved version of themselves, thus avoiding the difficult work of loving who they are today.
People subconsciously assign others a deserved level of reputation. Exceeding this makes you "overrated" and a target. Falling below makes you "underrated," a compliment. This is a societal attempt to control confidence rather than allowing it to be self-generated.
We attribute personal flaws to our upbringing while claiming strengths as self-made. This overlooks that challenging childhoods often forge resilience and ambition alongside negative traits. The wound and the gift often share a root.
The instinct to take on a loved one's negative emotions is counterproductive. It robs you of the bandwidth to offer effective support and can cause them to shut down, feeling their pain is now hurting you. True empathy requires emotional separation.
Success effectively solves material problems but is fundamentally the wrong "fuel" for internal struggles. It's like trying to quench thirst by eating; no amount of food (success) will solve the problem of dehydration (lack of inner peace).
A paradox exists where those who've "made it" report that success isn't the key to happiness. This message, while likely true and widely shared by achievers, can be deeply despondent for those still on the journey, as it ruins the promise they're chasing.
New creators often fear judgment, but the reality is that "no one's fucking listening." This anonymity is a powerful asset. It provides a consequence-free environment to experiment, fail, and develop a unique voice without the pressure of audience capture or fear of embarrassment.
By not fully committing to a goal, you create a built-in excuse if things go wrong: "I didn't really want it anyway." This self-protection strategy against public failure comes at the cost of guaranteeing a private failure by never truly trying.
For high-achievers whose identity is fused with their work, metrics like streams or sales are not just business data. A downturn feels like an existential crisis, raising fears of obsolescence and a loss of personal value, turning feedback into a threat.
The hunger driving ambitious people stems from the gap between their current reality and their desired future. Achieving that future collapses the gap, leaving them without a clear direction or motivation—a problem most people never face.
When you cater exclusively to audience expectations, you create a dangerous dynamic. If the work fails, you'll resent the audience because you sacrificed your own vision for them, leaving you with no authentic direction and a broken relationship with your supporters.
Instead of viewing flaws in isolation, see them as the "backswing" of a valuable strength. Perfectionism is the dark side of high standards; conflict avoidance can stem from high empathy. The solution isn't to eliminate the trait, but to learn how to manage its double-edged nature.
Success creates a new, higher baseline. To maintain that position and not seem to be "falling off," one must exert as much or more effort than it took to get there. Like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, you have to run as fast as you can just to stay put.