Growing up, I was ashamed of my dad’s job. While other kids’ parents were doctors or businessmen, my father worked in a garage fixing motorcycles, always covered in grease. I avoided talking about him at school, embarrassed by what I saw as a lack of success.
He missed dinners and school events, always saying, “I’m doing what I love, kid.” I didn’t understand. I envied my friends’ polished lives, and when he offered to buy me a motorcycle at sixteen, I rejected it—I wanted a car like everyone else.
Years later, after building my own corporate career, he asked me to help with a small project. Back in his garage, I finally saw things differently. His joy, pride, and purpose were unmistakable.
That day, I realized he was successful—not by society’s standards, but by his own. He taught me that real success is doing what you love and doing it with pride.
