Can We Achieve Great Results Without Suffering?
For most of my life, I believed success required suffering. As a startup founder, I endured countless days of burnout and desperation—days when I had no energy or motivation but pushed forward through sheer willpower.
The persistent voice of my inner critic was my main driving force: "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, had a rewarding career, built successful businesses, and continually 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 thought it was just me, but I saw many ambitious professionals struggled with the same paradox. Determined to understand it, I decided to investigate.
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 relationship 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 important question I had.
Throughout my career, I was fixated on the next goal. While working at a small startup, I aimed for a larger company. 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.
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, highlighting imperfections and comparing me unfavorably to others.
Yes, I raised investment, but others raised more—and faster. Good, I closed a deal, but I lost critical points to the client’s lawyers. Sure, I sold the company, but after seven exhausting years, the valuation could be higher. Regardless of my hard work or achievements, my critic remained unsatisfied, pointing out how I could’ve done better, quicker, and more precisely.
I postponed happiness and fulfillment until the next milestone. Each time I reached it, I watched it move further away.
During a long meditation, it struck me that my inner critic hated me. My real motivation wasn't achieving milestones; I just tried to silence that relentless voice. Only 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 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."
Harsh, neglectful, or overly demanding childhood experiences often originate it. 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.
This belief leads to self-criticism, low self-esteem, perfectionism, people-pleasing, compulsive behaviors, addictions, or social withdrawal.
To cope, many people create false selves—masks to hide their shame. The "super-achiever" is a common one, and the one I took on. Driven to excel in every area to escape feelings of inadequacy, I wore this mask.
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.
This realization led me to the following question:
How do I become more self-accepting?
I began observing my feelings and patterns with my therapist. Initially, everything felt like sadness. Gradually, I learned to recognize distinct emotions: fear, hurt, anger, and shame.
I numbed these feelings with food, social media, or sweets. To break this cycle, I began respecting my limits—eliminating early-morning meetings and late-night work marathons to prevent exhaustion.
Initially, this felt fantastic—more sleep, renewed energy, increased happiness. 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 walk, enjoy coffee, or soak in the sun. I believed I'd discovered balance.
I soon realized 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 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 barrier to 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 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 over time, 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 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 drop the "successful person" mask and openly discuss your insecurities. Acknowledge them, and they lose their power over you.
Authentic self-acceptance is the path to lasting success and meaningful results.
The most significant change in my life was how I handled criticism and mistakes. Previously, negative feedback felt like a personal attack, triggering defensiveness or excuses. Mistakes led me to 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 are practical problems to solve, not reflections of my worth. Old habits and brief self-blame moments resurface, but I quickly refocus.
If new insights arise, I'm comfortable changing direction, even after publicly committing to a particular path. This flexibility allows me to adapt quickly and frees me from the stress of appearing unreliable.
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. Integrating this inner voice turned it from a source of suffering into an ally.
These shifts have motivated me to take greater accountability for my life.
Will self-acceptance eliminate pain on the journey 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 occurs when you resist pain, pity yourself, or insist you shouldn't experience it. As Haruki Murakami 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—when we stop running from ourselves.