When Did "Making It" Stop Being Enough?

I've been thinking a lot about this lately: when did success stop feeling like success?

I'm not talking about the grind culture version of success where nothing's ever enough and you're always chasing the next milestone. I'm talking about something different. Something deeper. That feeling when you're doing well (objectively well) but there's this quiet voice that keeps asking, "Bus is this it?"

Maybe it's just me. Or maybe it's a Black thing.

Because here's what I've noticed: we're conditioned to chase stability. Get the degree. Get the job. Get the house. Build the life. And for our parents, for our grandparents, that was enough. That was the dream. That was freedom. The ability to own something, to provide, to not have to struggle the way they struggled. But somewhere along the way, for a lot of us, the goalpost moved. And I don't think it's because we're ungrateful or because we don't understand what they sacrificed. I think it's because once you're no longer in survival mode, once you've go the basics covered, your soul starts asking different questions.

Not "Am I safe?" but "Am I alive?"

Not "Can I provide?" but "Am I purposed?"

And that's a hard conversation to have. Because how do you tell your mama that the stable job she's proud of you for having feels like it's draining your life force? How do you explain to your family that you're thinking about walking away from security to chase something that might not even work out? How do you say, "I think I'm called to do something else," without sounding like you're throwing away everything they worked for?

The Weight of "Calling"

Here's the thing about calling: it doesn't always make sense. It's not always practical. It doesn't come with a benefits package or a clear ROI. And for Black folks, that's scary. Because we know what instability looks like. We know what it costs to take risks. We've seen what happens when the gamble doesn't pay off. But we've also seen what happens when you ignore the call. We've watched people spend decades in jobs that pay well but kill them slowly. We've seen the regret in the eyes of people who played it safe and woke up at 50 wondering where their life went. We've felt the weight of living someone else's version of success while our own dreams collect dust. Real talk: I'm not telling you to quit your job tomorrow. I'm not a financial advisor, a life coach, or anyone qualified to tell you what to do with your life. What I am saying is that if you've been feeling that pull toward something different, it's worth exploring. That might mean starting small side projects, evening classes, conversations with people in the field you're curious about. It might mean therapy to work through the fear. it might mean saving up a cushion so you can move with intention instead of desperation. But it doesn't have to mean blowing up your life overnight. I'm just here to say: that feeling you have? It's valid. What you do with it is up to you.

And maybe that's the tension we don't talk about enough. The fact that for Black people, calling isn't just a personal journey. It's tied to legacy. It's tied to responsibility. It's tied to the question, "What did my ancestors survive for if not so I could be free to become who I'm meant to be?"

Permission Slips We Didn't Know We Needed

This month's episode is about Edwina Findley Dickerson's book The World is Waiting for You, and I chose it for January because it wrestles with this exact thing. The book isn't preachy. It's not one of those "10 Steps to Manifest Your Dream Life" self-help books. It's honest. It's about the mess and the faith and the fear of stepping into something bigger than what makes sense on paper.

And what struck me most is this: Edwina didn't have permission. She just moved. She made the bold, sometimes illogical, terrifying choice to trust that the thing pulling at her was real. And yeah, it worked out. But the point isn't that it worked out. The point is that she answered. I think a lot of us are waiting for permission. Permission from our families to pivot. Permission from our bank accounts to take the risk. Permission from society to want something different than what we're "supposed" to want. But here's what I'm learning: nobody's going to give you that permission. You have to give it to yourself.

So What Now?

I don't have the answers. I'm asking the same questions you are. I'm sitting with the same tension. But I do know this: If you've been feeling that tug, that whisper, that, "maybe I'm supposed to be doing something else" feeling, you're not crazy. You're not ungrateful. You're not throwing away what your people built.

You're honoring it. Because they didn't survive so you could just survive too. They survived so you could live.

And maybe that's the real calling. Not the specific job or the specific path, but the audacity to believe that your life can be about more than just making it through. That you're allowed to want meaning. That you're allowed to want joy. That you're allowed to want purpose.

The world is waiting. The question is: are you ready to answer?

Listen to this month's episode wherever you get your podcasts. And then come back and tell me: what's the call you've been ignoring? What's the thing you're afraid to say out loud?

Let's talk about it.