I believed that rising at 4 a.m. was essential for success: to get started, hustle before the rest of the world arises, and join the ranks of high achievers who advocate for their early morning rituals. So, I gave it a shot. And I was absolutely miserable. I’m talking about the kind of misery that involves dragging myself out of bed, struggling with a foggy mind, and counting the minutes until I could return to sleep.

As a fresh full-time entrepreneur, I was pushing myself into a routine that felt like a punishment, all because I thought it was the cost of success. That misery prompted me to confront a question I had been avoiding: How do I define success? If pursuing this idea of “success” brings me unhappiness, is it really worth it? What’s the purpose of achieving goals if I am drained, resentful, and disconnected from the original motivation?

The main reason I started my business and became my own boss was to cultivate a life that suits me. Not one designed by some productivity expert with a morning schedule splashed across Instagram. Not the curated social media highlights where it appears everyone has their life together by dawn. For me.

However, I had to confront an uncomfortable reality: Just because someone claims a method works for them and insists it should work for me too, doesn’t mean it’s accurate. We’re all unique. We possess different energy levels, diverse bodies, various brains, and distinct lives. What energizes one person could completely drain another.

Yet, I found myself critiquing my own situation. Why isn’t it working for me? What’s wrong with me? I kept telling myself that everyone else (all the “popular kids”) seems to make it happen. All these thriving entrepreneurs are up at 4 a.m., so that must be the secret. I must be the issue, right? I must be lazy, lacking discipline, or not committed enough.

I was critiquing myself, punishing myself, and crafting a narrative where I was failing at something seemingly mastered by everyone else. Then it hit me: That wasn’t helping at all. The self-criticism, comparisons, and perpetual feelings of inadequacy were doing nothing to foster my success. It was merely increasing my misery.

Thus, I posed myself another query: What if I simply let go of that belief? What if I abandoned the notion that I must be productive at 4 a.m. to lead a successful life? What might unfold if I allowed myself to work in a manner that felt natural? Would my business fail? Would I suddenly become less competent? Or might something else occur?

I began to treat myself with more kindness. I ceased forcing my body and mind into a schedule that didn’t suit me. I started paying attention to when I felt most creative, most energized, and most alive. I began defining success on my own terms, not based on someone else’s morning habits, but focusing on what genuinely mattered to me: purpose, connection, empowerment, and joy.

And guess what? I found it. Not the Instagram depiction of success. Not the early bird club version. My own version. The one where I’m creating something significant without compromising my well-being along the way. The one where I am productive and present. Where I’m ambitious and at peace.

It turns out, success doesn’t come with a specific wake-up time. It comes with a feeling. And I’ve finally discovered mine.