I've completed my writing course at Every.to and just submitted my final essay. For this piece, I chose a topic that deeply matters to me—success and suffering. A couple of newsletters ago, I shared an early draft. Since then, I've completely rewritten it, including the final version below.

I know I often seem overly focused on self-reflection. One of my older and wiser friends pointed this out, suggesting that too much introspection can be harmful. According to him, true satisfaction comes from work and family.

Interestingly, I agree! However, since he's older and wiser, he's already reached that state while I'm still on my way, working through my obstacles.

Alan Watts once described teachers as pretending to possess secret knowledge, holding it tightly in their fists. Students spend years in study and effort, only for the teacher, in the end, to open their hand and reveal an empty palm—there was never a secret. That itself is the lesson. "Teachers" here can simply mean life itself.

The Zen saying captures this perfectly: "Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water."

Anyway, here's the final essay.

Can We Achieve Great Results Without Suffering?

For most of my life, I believed that success required suffering. As a startup founder, I endured countless days of burnout and desperation—days when I had no energy or motivation but forced myself forward through sheer willpower.

My main driving force was the relentless voice of my inner critic: "Get up and do it! Push harder—prove you're worth something. Otherwise, you're just a loser."

I listened to this voice, and it seemed effective. I graduated from a great university, built successful businesses, sold one, had a rewarding career, achieved excellent physical shape, and constantly propelled myself forward.

Yet, over time, I accumulated something else—deep exhaustion and unhappiness. It felt wrong to constantly suffer in pursuit of high performance only to end up more dissatisfied. I realize I'm not alone—many ambitious professionals experience the same paradox. Determined to understand it, I decided to investigate my own mind. 

Over the following three years, I attended over 100 therapy sessions, read 50 psychology and self-development books, and spent 500 hours meditating. In this essay, I'll share the key insights I gained while trying to understand the connection between success, happiness, suffering, and self-acceptance.

Why am I always unhappy despite achieving great results?

As I started uncovering the subconscious narratives and beliefs blocking my happiness, this was the first crucial question I had.

Throughout my career, I was fixated on the next goal. I aimed for a larger company while working at a small startup. Once there, I targeted a public one. With a stable job, I planned my own startup, then fundraising, scaling, and onward. Even daily tasks followed this pattern; completing one triggered the next. If I paused without a clear next step, anxiety crept in, as if standing still meant disaster.

When I discussed this pattern with my therapist, I uncovered a deep-seated fear that everything would collapse if I paused, stopped pushing myself, or relaxed briefly. My inner critic kept me in motion, scrutinizing every step, decision, and interaction, continually highlighting imperfections and comparing me unfavorably to others.

Raised investment? Yes, but others raised more—and faster. Sold the company? Sure, but after seven exhausting years, the valuation could be higher. Closed a deal? Good, but you lost critical points to the client’s lawyers. Regardless of my hard work or achievements, my critic remained unsatisfied, always pointing out how I could’ve done better, faster, and more precisely.

So again and again, I postponed happiness and fulfillment until the next milestone. Each time I reached it, I watched it move further away.

During an extended meditation, it struck me that my inner critic hated me. My real motivation wasn't achieving milestones; I simply tried to silence that relentless voice. Only complete exhaustion briefly muted it—but that relief never lasted, leading me to a deeper question:

Who is this inner critic, and what does it want from me?

I discovered that my inner critic was just the tip of a vast iceberg called toxic shame.

Toxic shame is an ingrained negative self-belief characterized by feelings of worthlessness, self-rejection, and the conviction that one must earn love by becoming "good enough."

It often originates from harsh, neglectful, or overly demanding childhood experiences. When children face unrealistic expectations—like taking on adult responsibilities too early or being pressured toward perfection—they internalize a deep sense of inadequacy.

Since children rely entirely on their parents, it can feel terrifying to view them as flawed or unsafe. To cope, they subconsciously conclude they are the problem, developing shame and believing something within them needs fixing.

Those experiencing toxic shame typically feel unworthy of love, care, or respect. This belief manifests as self-criticism, low self-esteem, perfectionism, people-pleasing, compulsive behaviors, addictions, or social isolation.

To cope, many people create false selves—masks to hide their internal shame. One typical mask is the "super-achiever," who excels in various areas to avoid feelings of inadequacy. Individuals with toxic shame continuously chase achievements to prove they're worthy of love and respect.

Numerous strategies exist to manage toxic shame and address subpersonalities like the inner critic, but the most effective ones involve acceptance and integration rather than suppression or avoidance. Overworking oneself to silence the inner critic only amplifies the issue. A healthier approach means genuinely accepting these parts of yourself:

This realization led me to the next question:

How Do I Become More Self-Accepting?

I began observing my feelings and patterns with my therapist. Initially, everything felt like vague sadness. Gradually, I learned to recognize distinct emotions—fear, hurt, anger, and shame.

I noticed how often I numbed these feelings through indulgences like food, social media, or sweets. Digging deeper, I realized these behaviors mostly occurred when I felt exhausted or overwhelmed from constantly pushing myself beyond my limits. To break this cycle, I began acknowledging and respecting my limitations—eliminating early-morning meetings and late-night work marathons to prevent exhaustion in the first place.

Initially, this felt fantastic—more sleep, renewed energy, increased happiness. Could it have been this simple? Why push myself when tired? When my inner critic urged, "Finish the work," I ignored it. Life is short, and work could wait. I'd take a walk, enjoy coffee, or soak in the sun. I believed I'd discovered balance.

Soon, however, I realized something critical: I'd become soft. Important tasks went unfinished, progress slowed, productivity stalled, fitness declined, and unhappiness returned.

My self-acceptance had turned into self-indulgence.

Previously, I'd silenced my inner critic through overwork and exhaustion. Now, I justified softness as self-care, making excuses instead of holding myself accountable. I realized that using "self-acceptance" to avoid discomfort or rationalize poor habits quickly becomes self-indulgence—a roadblock to personal growth. It manifests as self-pity, avoiding responsibility, and seeking instant gratification disguised as self-care.

How Can I Practice Self-Acceptance Without Becoming Complacent?

This fourth question was the most vital. I began closely examining my true motivations, regularly asking myself: Why am I doing this? What's my real intention?

I discovered my drive wasn't rooted in discipline but fear—fear of feeling like a failure. Two people can take identical actions yet have completely different motivations. Initially, the results might seem the same, but in the long run, intentions shape outcomes.

If you're pushing yourself to escape your insecurities, unhappiness will eventually return. You can't outrun yourself, no matter how fast you run.

True self-acceptance isn't about indulgence or avoiding discomfort. It's about honesty—seeing what's happening inside you and taking responsibility. It doesn't mean always feeling good; it means experiencing your real emotions and seeing your intentions. You can still feel irritation, envy, or anger, but instead of numbing these feelings with overwork or distraction, you acknowledge and accept them.

Being honest with yourself enables honesty with others. You can finally drop the "successful person" mask and openly discuss your insecurities. The moment you acknowledge these, they lose their power over you.

The only path to lasting success and meaningful results is genuine self-acceptance.

After realizing this, the most significant change in my life was in how I handled criticism and mistakes. Previously, negative feedback felt like a personal attack, triggering defensiveness or excuses. Mistakes led me straight into intense self-blame, rapidly draining my energy.

Now, feedback ignites curiosity. While harsh critiques can sting, I remind myself not to take them personally. Mistakes have become practical problems to solve, not reflections of my worth. Although old habits and brief moments of self-blame resurface, I quickly refocus.

I've become comfortable changing direction, even after publicly committing to a particular path, if new insights arise. This flexibility allows me to adapt quickly, accelerating growth and freeing me from the stress of appearing inconsistent.

My relationship with my inner critic has transformed. Instead of seeing it as an enemy, I recognize it as a protective part of myself striving for my well-being but lacking gentler communication. When its voice emerges, I treat it as a signal—something I can acknowledge or let pass. Integrating this inner voice turned it from a source of suffering into an ally.

These shifts have empowered me to take greater accountability for my life.

Will self-acceptance eliminate pain on the path to success?

Pain is a natural part of growth, signaling you're stepping outside your comfort zone. There's nothing negative about it—especially when it leads to valuable outcomes. Growth without pain is impossible.

Suffering, however, happens when you resist pain, pity yourself, or insist you shouldn't experience it. As Haruki Murakami famously said, "Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional."

Self-acceptance doesn't remove pain; it frees you from unnecessary suffering. It empowers you to grow intentionally and consciously rather than being driven by fear.

Can we achieve great results without suffering? Yes—but only when we stop running from ourselves.

Until next Sunday,
George Levin
^{LinkedIn | Consulting}