Success is a curious thing. We are encouraged to pursue it, admire it, and measure ourselves against it — yet when we see it too plainly in others, our reactions are not always generous.
A friend and client of mine has done very well in business. Through years of hard work and risk-taking, he reached a point where he could afford something many people dream about: a beautiful sports car. He enjoyed it, but not for long. The reactions it provoked made him uncomfortable. Some assumed he was paid too much. Others concluded his company must be overcharging. A few simply resented what the car appeared to represent.
Eventually, he stopped driving it to work and replaced it with a pickup truck. Ironically, the truck likely cost more than the sports car. But it did not signal success in the same way. It blended in. The reactions disappeared.
That contrast says a great deal about how we process success — not in substance, but in appearance.
We often tell ourselves that we admire achievement, but in practice, visible success can trigger envy, suspicion, or discomfort. Instead of asking how someone built something worthwhile, we question whether they deserve it. Instead of celebrating effort, we scrutinize outcome.
Perspective matters.
In some professions, the appearance of success is almost a prerequisite. Real estate agents and investment advisors are obvious examples. People want to believe they are dealing with someone who is thriving, competent, and trusted by others. Appearances — fair or not — play a role in building confidence.
Lawyers occupy an awkward middle ground. If a lawyer appears unsuccessful, clients may wonder whether they are capable. If a lawyer appears too successful, clients may assume the fees must be excessive. A modest office can suggest a lack of experience; a refined one can prompt questions about overhead and billing. It is a narrow and often unfair line to walk.
The truth, of course, is that success takes many forms, and appearances rarely tell the full story. A reliable truck may conceal extraordinary achievement. A quiet office may house decades of experience. A refined workspace may reflect pride in one’s profession rather than excess.
We would all benefit from a little more generosity of spirit — and a little more restraint in our judgments. Someone else’s success does not diminish our own. It is not evidence of unfairness, greed, or excess. More often than not, it reflects persistence, risk, and years of unseen effort.
If we can keep that perspective, we might find ourselves celebrating success more often — and resenting it far less.