Redefining Success After 40: Finding Purpose Beyond Titles
There comes a moment when success starts to feel heavy. Not because we’ve fallen short of it, but because we’ve been carrying it for so long that it no longer fits the life we’re living.
For years, success meant progress. Promotions, recognition, and a bigger title - all the things we were taught to aim for. And for a long time, I believed in that definition. I chased it, achieved it, and thought that when I got there, I’d finally feel fulfilled.
But when the moment arrived when I was 39 - the “dream job” I’d worked toward for years - something in me shifted. I had just gone through a divorce a year prior and was raising three daughters as a single parent, one of whom has a permanent disability. The role I was offered was everything I thought I’d ever wanted: National Field Education Manager. It was a huge opportunity, something I’d once said I’d do anything for. But as much as I wanted to say yes, I knew what it would mean - long hours away from home, extra stress, and a level of pressure my family and I weren’t ready for.
It broke my heart to turn it down. I remember crying, feeling like I was walking away from everything I’d worked for. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t failing - I was evolving. That decision, though painful, taught me something profound: that success without alignment isn’t success at all.
Think back to a milestone that didn’t feel as fulfilling as you expected. What did it teach you about what “success” really means to you now?
As life changes, our kids grow up, our parents need us, our energy shifts - so too must our definitions of achievement. What once felt exciting might now feel exhausting. What once drove us may no longer fit who we’ve become.
At this stage, success starts to look different. It’s not about climbing faster; it’s about climbing consciously. It’s less about proving, and more about being proud of how we’re living and leading.
You might already feel this shift happening.
You’re achieving, but it doesn’t feel as fulfilling as it once did.
You crave more creativity, purpose, or impact.
You’re tired of saying yes to things that drain you.
You find yourself mentoring others more than competing with them.
You’ve started valuing energy as much as effort.
These are the signs you’re entering your second act - not a decline, but an evolution. You’re not less ambitious; you’re simply more intentional.
Reflect on a time recently when you said “no” to something you’d once have felt obligated to do. What did that boundary create space for?
For me, the next shift came not from ambition, but from burnout.
After turning 50, I took a long-overdue trip to Japan with my husband - three wonderful weeks that felt like a deep exhale. But when I came home, the weight of life hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was in the thick of menopause, just a year post-hysterectomy, my daughter’s NDIS funding for supported independent living had been rejected, and work was as demanding as ever. I was utterly depleted. I remember lying in bed some nights, wishing life would just slow down, or that I could just find a way to breathe again.
That’s when I reached out for help. My doctor referred me to Carers WA, and it was the first time in years I felt truly understood. They helped me create space for myself - not in theory, but literally in my calendar. They taught me to block time each day for rest and boundaries, just as I would for a meeting. To stop working late into the night. To separate who I am from what I achieve.
And for the first time in my career, I opened up to my employer about my personal situation. I told my manager, her manager, and our HR leader what was really going on - about being a carer, a mother, and a woman trying to navigate burnout and menopause. I was terrified as to how that conversation would end, and I prepared for the worst, which for me, would be losing the job that I loved, and losing the relationships I had forged at work. For years, I’d believed that showing vulnerability would make me look less capable.
That belief came from an experience early in my career, when I worked in the wine industry. My children were still babies then, and one of my colleagues said to me, “Women with children have no right to be working here.” Those words stuck with me for decades. They shaped how I worked - over-preparing, over-performing, over-compensating - all to prove that I could do it all.
It wasn’t until this year that I realised carrying that mindset was costing me far more than it was giving. Because when I finally shared my reality, I was met with compassion, understanding, and genuine support. My team encouraged me to take the space I needed - for myself and for my daughter’s surgeries and appointments. That experience changed everything, and I will forever be grateful to those people for giving me the space to breathe, and for changing the narrative.
Creating space for myself didn’t make me weaker; it made me stronger. Setting boundaries didn’t limit me; it allowed me to show up with more clarity, compassion, and purpose - both at work and at home.
Redefining success after 40 doesn’t mean throwing away ambition. It means aligning it.
Here’s how to start:
Revisit your “why.” Ask yourself: What am I proud of that no one else sees?
Redefine reward. Let fulfilment, peace, and energy be part of the metric.
Reclaim time. Guard it as fiercely as you once guarded deadlines.
Refocus growth. Shift from chasing recognition to building legacy.
When you do this, your success starts to look and feel - like you.
Write about one area of your life where you’ve started measuring success differently - maybe in your career, your health, or your relationships. What changed when you did?
The truth is, you don’t have to prove yourself anymore. You’ve already done that.
This next chapter isn’t about running harder - it’s about running home to yourself.
Maybe success now is quieter but deeper. Maybe it’s not in the applause, but in the exhale. Maybe it’s knowing that you can still grow - just in ways that finally feel aligned with who you are today.
You’re not starting over. You’re simply redefining the terms.
And this time, they’re yours.