This essay was commissioned by Netflix as part of My Brilliant Career: My Way; a series of personal essays inspired by Netflix’s new series My Brilliant Career which is out August 13.
Last Sunday I attended a lunch with Netflix and Substack to celebrate the launch of an incredible new Aussie drama, My Brilliant Career, and in between courses, an elderly lady (who was doing tea-leaf readings) told me I had a split personality.
At first I was taken aback. Split personality? Moi?!
But as I was uber-ing back to my hotel, I reflected that she may have been onto something. I don’t have two personalities but when it comes to the history of my ambition, the story splits in two.
There’s Chapter One: Blind Ambition. This monster manifested during my first business when I became so headstrong that the only acceptable outcome was world domination. My attitude was “it’s dog eat dog out there and I’m starving” and my actions reflected that reality. I was desperate to prove to my ex-colleagues that I’d made the right decision to quit my job and go all in. Desperate to show my family and friends that I could stand on my own two feet. Desperate to convince the world I could make something of myself. Desperate to believe I was worthy. Nothing (no thing, no one, no how) could get in the way of my insatiable need to achieve.
I won’t lie, this ruthless drive led to some great things: a network contract for my podcast, a multi-year partnership with Australian Fashion Week, and building a fiercely loyal group of entrepreneurial women right across Australia.
But with great wins come great losses, and while marching to the beat of external approval, my sense of self disintegrated and my mental health took a nosedive. It would be months (years?) of therapy before I found the courage to ask “who am I doing this all for?”.
This single question set me on the path to writing Chapter Two: Inspired Ambition. Today, at 37 years young, I’m living out a version that finally feels like mine. Confident in myself and comfortable in my skin, I’m no longer a bottomless pit of pursuit, no longer hungry for scraps. This ambition doesn’t drag me but drives me. It pushes me to strive while pulling me towards my fate.
There are so many kinds of ambition
There’s blind ambition, the socially acceptable kind that lures you into getting a degree, securing the job, climbing the ladder, acquiring more money, chasing more status and breaking the glass ceiling until you finally reach the summit and realise the whole thing was a sham. This ambition is a witch, all toil and trouble, beneath a very convincing disguise.
Then there’s ambition unchecked. Ravenous, guttural, villainous. Ambition on a warpath that eats at your health, gnaws at your relationships and chips away at your bank balance until all you can see is the blast radius of every decision you’ve ever made.
There’s ambition that’s silenced. When, somewhere along the way, you learned that wanting was dangerous, greedy, too loud, too much. So you shrank yourself to be palatable, to put others at ease. You apologised and shoved your dreams down deep.
There’s ambition that whispers. A pull you don’t fully understand but can’t possibly ignore. A soft voice you only hear when autopilot powers down and your senses switch back on. An inner knowing that says “it might not make sense, but go for it anyway”.
Then there’s casual ambition with an irregular pulse that waxes and wanes as life ebbs and flows, and interests and priorities change. This ambition wanders. It’s not carved in stone, it zigs and zags. It’s lighter, brighter, freer.
And there’s inspired ambition. One that sparkles. The type that astonishes you, knows you, enthrals you, enraptures you. When you tap into this ambition, suddenly everything makes sense. All the dark days, the moments filled with doubt, with dread, the rejection, the pain, the loss, the disappointment…their purpose all become clear. This ambition is life-affirming. It’s lifelong. This ambition takes place on the edge of the world.
Claim what’s yours
Ambition comes in many forms; the witch, the warlord, the whisperer, the wanderer. Mine looks nothing like yours, and yours looks nothing like your best friend’s, or your enemy’s, or the ex-colleagues you're still trying desperately to prove wrong.
Nor should it.
Because a deathbed free from regret does not come from blindly following what’s right, reasonable or conventional, nor does it come from shrinking yourself so you don’t appear too much.
It comes from following the pull you can’t explain. The one you hear when autopilot powers down and your senses switch back on. The one that astonishes, enthrals and enraptures you. So claim this version, whether it roars and rumbles or whether it’s quiet and humble. Because the next chapter of your story is yours to write.
It can be sparkling. It will be brilliant.
So take it. Own it. Go for it with all you’ve got.
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Wonderful read. I learned something recently that I wish I’d understood much earlier: just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.
For a decade, I was driven by this almost constant fear of not living up to my potential — as if every capability had to be used, every opportunity taken, every possible version of myself pursued.
I’m starting to think much more about energy instead: what fuels me, what drains me, and which parts of my potential I actually want to realize.
I launched a Substack yesterday where I’m exploring exactly these questions around potential. Would love to see you there. 💜
is it possible that your ambition shapeshifts over time? right now, i think i’m very much experiencing silenced ambition, but it wasn’t always that way