This is your reminder to do something that reminds you of just how far you've come.

Do something decadent. I dare you.

Growing up, I never heard the word success.

It's not that my parents were against the notion, but—truthfully—success was a luxurious thought, when most thoughts were reserved for scraping money together for rent and groceries.

The first time I thought of success—and realized I was capable of such a thought—I walked down Main Street in Disneyland.

My family was gifted tickets to the Happiest Place on Earth, so the first time I set foot down the trolley tracks next to The Emporium, I thought…

I HAVE OFFICIALLY MADE IT BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT SUCCESS FEELS LIKE.

It didn't matter what I did that day forward, I logged success as walking down Disneyland's Main Street.

When I want to mark my success as an adult, I buy tickets to Disneyland. In fact, that's what I did today.

I didn't buy the tickets because I was a success this year (let's be real: material items don't prove anything), I bought the tickets as a reminder.

No matter what happened this year—the highs, lows, successes, and painful lessons—I'm a success not for what I have, but what I've done.

The work behind closed doors, the silent building offline, the consistent change for progress.

Success is a feeling we can choose, regardless of our circumstances, so this is your reminder to do something that reminds you of how far you've come.

Wannabe Mouseketeer, j*