The Courage to Define Success

Who gets to decide what is “right” for someone?

By now, most of America has heard of Alysa Liu. She is a 2026 Olympic gold medalist and one of the most decorated young figure skaters in U.S. history. She surprised people not just by her talent but by a decision she made early in her career. At sixteen, as her success was rising, she retired, saying she felt satisfied with what she had accomplished. She chose autonomy by defining success on her own terms.

After two years, she decided to come back to competitive skating. This time she decided what her path forward would look like. She has said that the comeback felt different and that even practicing felt fun. Every competition leading up to the 2026 Olympics strengthened her confidence, not because she was winning, but because she was deciding. She was gathering evidence that she could determine what worked and what did not work for her. When she returned to this year’s Olympics, she got to realize a goal she set for herself. The goal was not a medal. It was to experience skating at the Olympics in a way that aligned with her values.

Back when she was sixteen and chose retirement, many people likely wondered, Why quit when you were getting so close? That question reflects the assumptions we carry about what success is supposed to look like.

Culturally, we celebrate upward momentum and admire endurance. For women, success has often been prescribed rather than self-defined. The cues are subtle: praise for being “selfless,” social penalties for saying no, and being labeled “difficult” when setting boundaries. These messages communicate how much one should give and what sacrifice proves commitment.

So when someone defines success on her own terms, it challenges narrow definitions of ambition and invites reconsideration of whose goals are being centered.

As we reflect during Women’s History Month, we celebrate women who pushed through barriers and broke ceilings. Those stories are important and inspirational, and their celebration reflects what we collectively value. What if we also honored women who stepped away when staying would have been more celebrated? What if courage includes defining success internally rather than inheriting it externally?

In coaching, we operate from the belief that people are naturally creative, resourceful, and whole. The ICF Core Competencies reinforce this by positioning the client as the expert in their own life. It invites us to examine how we hold client ambition. When a client chooses pause over progression, what assumptions surface for us? Where might cultural narratives subtly shape our listening? How do we distinguish between a client’s internal knowing and conditioned expectations?

Autonomy requires self-trust. For many clients, particularly those from historically marginalized identities, trusting themselves may already require pushing against expectations about who they should be. When we honor a client’s agenda, we do more than follow a competency. We resist imposing our own assumptions about what progress should look like and we avoid reinforcing the expectations they may already be navigating. We are making room for success to be self-defined rather than socially prescribed. Trusting clients when they define their own path is essential to creating inclusive coaching spaces where clients do not have to edit, translate, or shrink themselves to be understood and respected.

This article originally appeared in the March 2026 edition of the ICF New England DEIB newsletter. You can read the full edition here.

Thea Charles