How do you define success in life?

Is it the amount of money sitting in your bank account? The shiny car parked on your drive? The size of your house, the holidays you take, or the number of expensive gadgets you’ve managed to accumulate?

Don’t get me wrong, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having nice things. If you’ve worked hard for them and they’re what makes you happy, then good for you.

But are those things really what make someone successful?

Personally, I don’t think so.

For me, success has very little to do with what’s in your bank account or what you own. It’s much more about the person you are, the challenges you’ve faced, the obstacles you’ve overcome, and perhaps most importantly, whether you can look at yourself in the mirror and be comfortable with the person looking back.

And if I’m honest, that’s taken me quite a few years to achieve.

You see, my journey hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.

I didn’t grow up with everything handed to me on a silver platter. Far from it.

I experienced sexual and physical abuse throughout my childhood. I spent my teenage years living in a hostel, without many of the things that other young people might have taken for granted.

Life wasn’t particularly kind, and there were plenty of times when simply getting through the day was an achievement in itself.

I also spent a large part of my life trying to understand why I seemed to experience the world differently from other people.

It wasn’t until later in life that I understood I was autistic. For years, I was living with undiagnosed autism, trying to navigate a world that often felt as though it came with an instruction manual that everyone else had received except me.

There were plenty of hurdles along the way.

Some were visible. Others were carried quietly, behind a smile or a seemingly ordinary conversation.

And yet, here I am.

At 50, I can honestly say I’m comfortable in my own skin.

Now, that might not sound like a particularly spectacular achievement to some people.

I’m not standing on a stage collecting a lifetime achievement award. I haven’t got a mansion, a Ferrari or a yacht parked somewhere in the Mediterranean.

Although, if anyone happens to have a spare yacht, I’m prepared to discuss the matter!

But seriously, when I look back at the younger version of myself, living in a hostel with very little, I think he’d probably be rather surprised by where life has taken me.

Because somehow, somewhere along the way, I managed to build something.

I found my voice through poetry.

What started as a way of getting the thoughts and emotions out of my head eventually became something much bigger. Those early scribbles developed into poems, and those poems eventually became books.

I’ve now written several poetry books, had my work published in books and magazines, and even picked up a few awards along the way.

Not bad for a bloke who originally started writing because he was simply trying to make sense of himself.

Then there’s photography.

Another passion that started out as something I enjoyed doing, which has gradually opened doors and given me opportunities I never imagined I’d have.

I’ve had photographs published, worked behind the camera at events, and experienced moments that the younger me probably wouldn’t have believed possible.

Am I famous? Absolutely not.

Am I some sort of photographic genius? Mrs Bob might argue otherwise, but I’m certainly not going to make that claim!

But I’ve achieved things that I’m genuinely proud of.

And perhaps that’s the point.

Success doesn’t have to mean becoming rich, famous or particularly important in the eyes of the world.

Sometimes, success is simply doing something you were once told, or perhaps believed, you would never be able to do.

Sometimes it’s getting out of bed when life feels overwhelming.

Sometimes it’s finding the courage to speak about things you’ve spent years keeping buried.

Sometimes it’s learning to accept yourself, including the bits you once thought needed fixing.

And sometimes, it’s reaching the age of 50 and realising that you no longer need to apologise for being you.

For me, that’s a pretty big deal.

I also wouldn’t be telling the whole story if I didn’t mention Mrs Bob.

Because behind every bloke who thinks he’s got his life reasonably well organised, there’s quite often someone quietly keeping everything from falling apart.

And in my case, I’ve been incredibly lucky.

The love, support, patience and courage of Mrs Bob have been an enormous part of my journey.

She’s been there through the good times and the not-so-good times. She’s supported my writing, encouraged my photography, helped me navigate some of life’s more complicated moments and, on occasion, probably had to put up with more than her fair share of my ramblings.

She’s believed in me when I’ve struggled to believe in myself.

She’s encouraged me to keep going, even when I’ve doubted what I was capable of.

And she’s helped me become comfortable with the person I am today.

I don’t think you can put a price on that.

So, when somebody asks me how I define success in life, my answer is actually quite simple.

Success is being able to look back at where you started, recognise everything you’ve been through, and still be proud of the person you’ve become.

It’s not about having the biggest house, the fanciest car or the healthiest bank balance.

It’s about character.

It’s about resilience.

It’s about kindness, compassion and the ability to keep moving forward, even when life gives you every reason to stop.

It’s about finding something that makes you happy, having the courage to pursue it, and appreciating the people who walk alongside you.

Most importantly, it’s about understanding that your past doesn’t have to dictate your future.

I can’t change what happened to me as a child. I can’t go back and give that teenage boy the childhood he deserved.

But I can look at the life I’ve built since then.

I can look at the poetry books, the photographs, the opportunities, the friendships and the people who have become part of my world.

And I can look at Mrs Bob, knowing just how fortunate I am to have her beside me.

Then I can look in the mirror.

And for perhaps the first time in my life, I don’t see someone who needs to be different, someone who doesn’t quite fit, or someone who hasn’t achieved enough.

I see me.

A bloke who’s had his fair share of knocks, who’s made mistakes, who’s still learning, still scribbling, still taking photographs and still occasionally wondering what on earth he’s doing.

But a bloke who’s happy with who he is.

A bloke who’s proud of what he’s achieved.

And a bloke who knows that, despite everything life has thrown at him, he’s still here.

And if that’s not success, I really don’t know what is.

So perhaps the next time we measure somebody’s success, we should spend a little less time looking at what they’ve got and a little more time considering what they’ve overcome.

Because you never really know what battles someone has fought to get where they are today.

And sometimes, the greatest achievement isn’t what you’ve accumulated along the way.

It’s the person you’ve become.

Stay safe,

BC