Vengeance Work

“When I delivered newspapers, they said I was too slow

When I was a barista, they said I made lousy foam

When I worked in retail, they said I was a slob

Much too dumb for school and much too lazy for a job

So I rode my bike like lightning

And I made cappuccinos that would make the angels sing

Took two showers a day, and I dressed up like a princess

Shook my fist in my own face and said I'll show you who's the best”

—Kimya Dawson, The Competition

You know those people who say that they’re only in competition with themselves? You think they realise that someone still has to lose?

As I reflect on my journey so far, it hits me hard: a significant portion of the work I've been doing was driven by an insatiable need to prove something to someone. I was relentlessly chasing success, validation, and recognition without truly understanding why I was doing it or if it was even aligned with my own aspirations.

It's insidious, this work that feeds off our desire to prove others wrong. There’s this quiet splinter-cell mission in your head, to silence the naysayers, to show an unnamed them that we're capable of achieving greatness. And it's not just about the doubts or opinions of others: many of us grapple with this internally, constantly striving to prove ourselves to ourselves.

Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying that striving for success is wrong. We all have dreams and aspirations. But vengeance work is a slippery slope. It's a one-way ticket to losing sight of what truly matters: your well-being, the genuine value of the work you produce, and the health of your relationships.

Vengeance work is a beast. It whispers in our ear, pushing us to chase the next achievement, the next milestone, the next win. It's an endless cycle of dissatisfaction. And you know what? It can lead to burnout, strained relationships, and worst of all, a disillusionment with the very work that once set our souls on fire. Wildly, often it’s not even about chasing money. Imagine that: burnt out, working too hard, and not earning enough. I’ve been there; it sucks.

But what if we could redefine success? What if we could learn to appreciate the progress we've made, the mountains we've climbed, and the obstacles we've conquered? Acknowledging our successes doesn't mean settling for mediocrity or becoming complacent. It's about recognizing the sweat, tears, and hard work we've poured into our endeavours. It's about giving ourselves credit where credit is due.

Realistically: how to win though? Because, if you're like me, all the therapy-speak is nice, but it would be a bit easier if we could just…win without worrying about being “enough”. So, instead of making peace with things, I choose winning. For me, winning is about setting realistic, personal goals, documenting them, and referring to them over time. Let the past version of yourself be the judge of your success. I remember when I was 26, I told a friend that I would become a typeface designer within a couple of years. I went home and put it on my Notes app. And, you know what? It happened. Sure, there are countless things I haven't accomplished yet—I'm guilty of berating myself for not finishing that one thing yet, or having a fully polished public portfolio. But, good not to forget: I already won. I have receipts.

The trick is to set yourself up for goals that make sense. Use the SMART goals system; create goals that are Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-Bound. That means that setting a goal like “becoming wealthy” or “getting hired at a FAANG” would be less likely met than “saving $250,000 by next April,” or “meet the credentials to be hired at any FAANG by 31”. This is because you can plan around how to save $250k in a year, and the credentials for getting hired at a FAANG are clearly outlined. You don’t know if you’ll ever live up to your or society’s ideas of wealth, or if you’ll be the right shade of beige and well-connected enough to get hired at the right tech company. So why put that pressure on yourself? 

You can set yourself up for success: rig the game. Documenting your goals and milestones will save you tons of grief, by allowing you to keep track of your progress and relish the satisfaction of watching yourself clear them—or if you’re like me, at least lose a little less sleep over whether you’re where you’re meant to be.