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# What if my greatest fear is not that I’ll fail, but that I’ll succeed? What if the sand at my feet, the friction I’m feeling, is all about the unknown about the future?

Here’s my predicament: Ever since I was in college, I have been trying to build something. The thought of working for someone has always made me nauseous. And currently, I do work for someone else. And I make a salary. And every day when I walk into work, my stomach hurts. 

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So at night, I work on my projects. But for years, they never went anywhere. I might make a little money here or there, but the truth is, me trying to build my own company was a ruse. It was an elaborate ruse that I want to explain to you now …

When I was in college, I met a woman. She was two years older than me. We were instantly smitten, which might have had to do with a mix of a tremendous amount of sex and the fact that I could keep up with her incredibly strong personality. She was brilliant. I was in love before the week was out. 

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I was so in love, we agreed to get married two years later. Looking back on it, I know I was too young to get married. But I did anyway. 

# And it was incredible. 

We struggled because we were broke. But it was incredible. And sexy. I wasn’t just sleeping with a girl anymore, she was my wife.

And while we lay in bed, talking, we would imagine a better future for ourselves. I was going to build this great, big empire with all sorts of companies that were becoming stronger. It was going to be an amazing life. There was only one problem …

# I was still in school. 

I still had another year and a half to go before I would be done. So she took the reins. She paid for everything, covering our rent, food, car, etc. It was a compromise we had made because I was going to be so incredibly successful once I got out of school. I did a little freelance writing here or there, bringing in a couple hundred bucks, but my primary focus was school—and her. 

When I graduated, we, again, took stock of our finances. Things were a bit better because her job had provided housing, but we were still struggling. So, like any responsible wife did, she asked me to get a job. 

“Wait! Before I get a job, I think I really should try and build my own future. I can get plenty of clients. I’m a fast writer. Just let me do that,” I said. 

“But it’s unpredictable. You’ve got $40,000 in student loans. I have $45,000 in student loans. It’s all too expensive,” she said. 

“Baby, listen, I can do it. I know I can. I’ve already got this one guy who is paying me and now there’s this other client who wants to work with me. It’ll be good money,” I said. 

She acquiesced…

And for about a month, the money was pretty nice. Nowhere near enough to cover the bills, but she was understanding of me wanting to build something. The problem was that, it was inconsistent. I could’ve made any amount of money. 

# Instead, I would sit in my home office and just browse the Internet. I wouldn’t really get anything done. 

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A few months later, after realizing that I hadn’t contributed much to our bank account, she approached me again and asked me about getting a job. And again, I told her that I needed to focus on building my company. I could tell that she was incredibly bothered by this because I didn’t really have anything to show for it, but I was convincing. Despite my incredible insecurity about talking to people, people have told me I’m incredibly charismatic. 

That charisma only stopped working when I lost a big client. Realizing that money was already tight and that I had lost 75% of my paltry income, I knew I had no choice but to get a job. So I went out, got a job, started bringing home a paycheck. And my stomach started hurting because the idea of working for someone else made me nauseous. 

Fast forward and our marriage is crumbling … A marriage built on great sex can’t last when the stressors of the real world get in the way. And each day that our marriage got worse, I would distance myself from my wife, focusing more and more on _“building a company.”_

# And I had a great idea. 

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I was working with a world class reporter to build an independent media website. I made no money, but I owned equity. And I would continue to accrue more equity as time went on. But I was staying out late, talking with potential partners, and giving my wife very little of the time that she deserved. My business partner was doing the same thing. His marriage was starting to crumble as well. My rationale was that, as long as I focused on the project, we would succeed. 

But again, I really wasn’t doing anything. Sure, I would talk, but I had been brought on to do tech work and marketing. And what did I do? I helped develop a bit of an editorial plan and traffic did double. But it should have more than doubled. It should have gone up 10x. 20x. But all I was really doing was hiding in my office, door closed, pretending to work. I wasn’t achieving anything. 

## Finally, after my wife learned about what my business partner was going through, and probably because she was desperate to save our marriage, she confronted me. 

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# “You can’t keep working on [insert project name],” she said. 

“What? Why? We’re doing great work!”
“It’s going to destroy [insert business partner’s name] marriage. You can’t be part of that.”
“Yeah, but my responsibility is to the business. I don’t need to worry about his marriage,” I said. 
“How would you feel if someone said that about our marriage?”

So I acquiesced…

I quit the project in a rage-filled phone call, telling the guy that I couldn’t be part of it anymore, that he was the problem, and just ranted. 

Five months later, the divorce papers were signed. Yup. Even after I quit the project—which I hadn’t really been working on—my wife told me she wanted a divorce and we got one. 

_Quick aside: There’s a part of me that believes that she cheated on me. And if she did, I deserved it. For that last year of our marriage, I was completely useless to our marriage. I wouldn’t make love with her. I was trapped in my office pretending to work. And yes, I was pretending because for hours, I would get nothing done. So if she did go outside of the marriage, I feel she was entitled._ 

So now I’m divorced. And I’ve got all these great plans. I am not going to be held back by my wife! I can do it. I don’t need her. And then I finally realize it …

# I’m to blame for the marriage dissolving. 

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Sure, she might have acted wrong in some ways, but the reality is, I was ignoring my wife so that I could pretend to work. Once I realized that, I had to understand why. I had to understand why I had thrown away an incredible partnership. 

I’m writing this now because I understand it. 

# I’m afraid of success. 

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I know, on the surface, that sounds really childish. “Oh, please, what’s there to be afraid of succeeding? It’s a great thing! You’ll have money, you’ll have power, you’ll have everything you want.”

But I want you to stop and think for a second. What happens if I fail in my latest project? What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll tell you … 

I go back to status quo. Nothing changes. I’ve still got my full-time job. I still get a paycheck every other week. I’m paying down my student loans. Failing at something doesn’t really matter because the risks are just not there.  

# On the other hand, what happens if I succeed? Everything changes. People look at me different. I’ve been looking at the posts here on Steemit and the amount of envy and jealousy people have toward whales proves it. Once someone has succeeded, they’re resented.  

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Do I really want my friends to resent me? And what then? Do I have to pay for everything too because I’ve succeeded?

There’s more responsibility in success. If I get really successful, I suddenly have to worry about employees, health insurance, and ensuring that their livelihoods are okay. Because if I fail after succeeding, that could ruin more lives. 

# And then there’s all this doubt. 

Why did I succeed? Was it because I was good or because I was lucky? If it’s the latter, what will people think of me? And if I have enough money, will people be my friend because of me or because of the money in my wallet?

It’s all so much easier if I am just a drone, living life by a plan, not succeeding, but not failing either.

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But that requires me to work for someone. And that’s just unacceptable. I’m tired of that. I’m fatigued by the idea of being someone else’s employee, making them more successful while I get nowhere. I think I’ve hit a breaking point. 

For ten years, I’ve wanted to build something. And for ten years, I had nothing truly great to show for it. That all changes now.

Three weeks ago, I incorporated my company. Three weeks ago, I signed my first client. He might want a second project done. Last Friday, I got my business bank account. This morning, I got on a call with a complete stranger and talked about how our two companies can partner to make us both gain more wealth. I emailed a dozen potential clients, too. 

I’m not going to be afraid of success anymore. If I want the freedom of being my own man, working for myself, and not answering to anyone but myself, I have to embrace the unknown. I have to be willing to charge head-first into success. 

# That success may hurt, I could lose people over it, but it’s what is best for me. 

I don’t know if I’m alone with this feeling and in my respects, I wish I had learned it sooner. If I had identified this when I was married, I could have kept my wife. She really was great. But she’s moved on, happily married again, and doing what she wants. And I’ve moved on too. I’ve got a great partner again who supports me. 

# And while we lay in bed, talking, we imagine a better future for ourselves. 

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Only this time, I know that I am being truthful to her. I know that our future is going to be so much more successful than it is today. Because I am not going to be afraid of my success. I’m good at what I do, I should be allowed to enjoy that. 

Has anyone else ever had this fear of success? I don’t have an account on Steemit, but I’ll be looking at the comments. If anyone has any tips for sticking to my guns, I’d really appreciate reading them. Thanks!

-Secret Writer