Noelle Villanueva

We’re taught early on that success is a narrow lane: job titles, promotions, salaries. Somewhere along the way, many of us internalize the belief that our worth hinges on productivity and external validation.

But when we slow down, tune in, and actually look at the lives that feel meaningful, the picture shifts.

Success becomes more multidimensional:
• The quality of our relationships
• Our emotional and physical wellbeing
• Time to rest, play, and connect
• Work that aligns with our values
• Financial stability rather than constant striving
• A sense of purpose, contribution, and ongoing growth

This broader definition is not only healthier, it’s more honest. It makes room for joy, humanity, and self-compassion. It honors seasons of change. And it reminds us that a “successful life” is one we can inhabit, not just perform.

If you’ve been measuring yourself by the old metrics, you’re not alone. Many of us learned those rules. But you’re allowed to rewrite them. You’re allowed to choose a definition of success that actually sustains you.

What would your pie chart look like today?

I’ve been sitting with the events of yesterday and struggling to reconcile what I’ve seen. No matter how I look at it, I cannot understand how people can celebrate the loss of another human being simply because they disagreed with him. Where is our humanity?

What makes it worse is the finger pointing, the constant dividing of people into left and right, us and them. That only deepens the fracture in our country. I would hope that we could all agree on one simple truth: no matter your skin color, your religion, your sexual orientation, or your political beliefs, above all, we are human. We have one life, and it is precious.

Celebrating anyone’s death, regardless of how much you disliked them or opposed their views, is one of the most dehumanizing acts we can commit. That loss leaves behind grieving families, broken communities, and deeper wounds for us all.

One thing Charlie Kirk did consistently was open dialogue with those he disagreed with. That is the essence of democracy: the freedom to debate, challenge, and still recognize each other’s dignity. I hope his death is not in vain, that we can learn from this, find our humanity, and open dialogue with each other, which is what he stood for.

I don’t know exactly where we go from here, but I do know something has to change. My hope is that this moment becomes a turning point, one where we look inward rather than cast blame, one where we choose empathy over hatred, humanity over division. Let his legacy remind us that our nation grows stronger when we debate without dehumanizing, and when we seek common ground over contempt.