I deeply relate to this.
I did the BIG career and left. I didn't leave by choice, I became disabled, but before that I had already left a VERY BIG job and radically down shifted to a more meaningful, part time role that I enjoyed much, much more.
I did the BIG accomplishment thing, got my finances in a place where I could pivot, and then spent the rest of my career truly enjoying myself. Like the article described, I too became a "mysterious legend" for the moves I pulled and the way I worked on my own terms and actually enjoyed myself in a sea of miserable colleagues.
Then I had to leave that career altogether due to profound disability, and now I'm back in a whole new profession, kicking ass on my own terms, having a great time. Feeling ZERO pressure to achieve according to anyone else's metrics.
It is very freeing to feel like you did it, you accomplished big, and really just don't need to ever wonder "what if?"
It's also VERY freeing to have done the BIG THING, to leave it, and to quickly realize that it was never as important as it felt at the time.
I've often said this here, but no matter how massive your accomplishments, after a few years they're essentially the equivalent of the highschool quarterback who won the "big game." It doesn't matter and no one cares about what you used to do.
I think that's the biggest win for me. Being post-achievement has relegated all of that stuff that felt so important at the time to just "shit I used to do." It only matters insofar as I decide it matters.
I've since grown to care about my relationship with my dog more than my career accomplishments. It has more meaning to me. I adopt rescue dogs and invest enormous effort into rehabbing them into happy, healthy family members who thrive after having been literally tortured in puppy mills.
I get to decide that that is a bigger source of pride for me than anything I ever did professionally. I'm very proud of my professional accomplishments, especially those that made a difference in vulnerable people's lives. But again, I get to decide what matters, what's important, not some external metric of "success" according to a toxic system that I unsubscribed from long ago.
And that's really the thing. Having achieved very big things within our toxic system makes it easier for some of us former achievement junkies to pull back the curtain and see the worthless forces behind the praise and accolades, how they are specifically designed to push us towards priorities that are fundamentally unhealthy.
I did BIG THINGS and it cost me my health and as soon as I was no longer able to do BIG THINGS, my value within that system disappeared.
I sacrificed a lot of my most important assets for grades, parchments, medals, titles, accolades, praise, admiration, money, professional reputation and envy, etc, etc.
And it wasn't worth it. None of those things mattered nearly as much as I was told that they mattered. Not nearly as much as I was conditioned to care about them.
I've just spent the last few years in grad school where I couldn't care less about my grades. I unsubscribed from that system as a legitimate measure of my value a long time ago. I do happen to have a 4.0, but not because I strive for good grades. I get good grades because I deeply enjoy the process of learning and writing interesting papers.
I don't bother proof reading them though, and my APA is pretty rusty, so I consistently lose marks on easily preventable formatting errors. Sometimes I lose a lot of marks if the instructor is a stickler. But I don't enjoy proof reading and looking up formatting standards, so I just write, deeply enjoy the process, and submit my rough draft as-is. In my 14th year of university, I feel zero need to prove myself to faculty, I have a doctorate too, lol. If I *like* the faculty member, then I'll at least pay attention to their feedback.
I like getting good grades because it means I don't have to put in any effort that I don't want to to improve my performance to ensure I don't fail. A pass is 70% and my program doesn't give out 90+ grades, so if I weren't performing in the top quartile of students, I would be too close to failing to be as cavalier as I am.
That would matter to me because that would have negative impact on me. But as long as my grades are high enough for me to be lazy and work on my own terms, I'm happy as a clam. I often don't even read the assignment instructions fully, I just write what I think is relevant to the learning I'm supposed to be doing. I figure that if I demonstrate excellent, relevant learning, then I've done my job, even if I broke a bunch of rules along the way.
Sometimes, if I intend to break A LOT of rules, I'll ask for permission in advance, but only if I think I'll be at risk of failing if I don't. I always get permission because I make a good pitch as to why it's beneficial for my personal learning objectives.
The point is, I'm essentially immune to the pressure of grad school. This is a master's program, I've already done a doctoral program that was orders of magnitude harder.
I have nothing to prove, I just want to learn, which I LOVE doing. I primarily started this (online) program for something to do while I was stuck in bed recovering from a broken femur.
Now it's lead to fun, deeply meaningful work that I'm also doing on my own terms and having a blast. But I won't touch with a 10 foot pole any job opportunity that won't allow me near-total autonomy to do this shit my own way.
I don't care what the incentives and rewards are, I have unsubscribed from any of those that don't actively add to my overall quality of life.
It can't harm my self-care, it can't harm my time and energy to work with my dog, it can't harm my presence and investment in my marriage. Doing meaningful, profitable, satisfying work is fun and all, but it's relegated to a priority level that contributes to my overall wellness, never, ever detracts from it.
Achievement is ONLY as valuable as I decide it is, and I long ago decided that it's only value is how much it improves everything else that matters to me more.
Nothing that makes me less healthy and less happy will ever be important to me ever again.