measured success by standards that constantly moved higher because someone else always seemed to have more.
My younger sister Madison inherited most of that.
She was twenty-seven when this happened, three years younger than me, and had spent her entire life becoming exactly the kind of daughter my mother knew how to admire.
Successful.
Polished.
Ambitious.
Socially impressive.
I was different.
Not because I had failed.
In fact, for years I had done extremely well in finance.
But when I turned thirty-one, I walked away from it.
I was earning
