It's both rebellion and conformity that attack you with success.

When Amy Tan declared, “It’s both rebellion and conformity that attack you with success,” she revealed a paradox that few understand until they have tasted the weight of triumph. Her words tell us that success is never a quiet garden where the soul may rest in peace, but a battlefield where two forces—rebellion and conformity—press upon the victor. One whispers, “Break free, go further, defy all expectations.” The other commands, “Stay the same, protect what you have earned, do not stray.” And in the clash of these two voices, the soul of the successful is often torn.

The ancients knew this battle well. The heroes of old, having achieved their conquests, often faced dangers not from enemies, but from themselves. Alexander the Great, after subduing half the known world, was tormented by both the call to push further east (rebellion against limits) and the demand to govern his empire in stability (conformity to rule). Both forces pressed upon him, and in that pressure lay the seeds of his undoing. So too does Amy Tan remind us: when success comes, it does not bring peace but a new struggle.

There is also in her words a recognition of the human heart’s divided nature. Rebellion is the spark of creation, the voice that dares to say, “I will not live by the pattern given me.” Without rebellion, no great art, no invention, no revolution would have been born. Yet conformity is the force that sustains, that guards traditions, that ensures the victories of today endure into tomorrow. Both are necessary, but when success crowns a person, they often become traps. Rebellion tempts the successful to destroy their own foundations, while conformity tempts them to bury their fire beneath fear of loss.

History gives us many examples of this torment. Consider Vincent van Gogh, who rebelled against the artistic norms of his time, painting with colors and strokes that shocked his contemporaries. His rebellion gave the world beauty, but it also consumed him, leaving him unrecognized in life. On the other hand, think of those who conformed too much to the tastes of their age, producing works forgotten as soon as fashions changed. Both rebellion and conformity can attack, especially when success sharpens their edges and makes their voices louder.

Amy Tan’s wisdom is drawn from her own life as a writer. Her success brought her fame, but also the pressure of expectation. To conform was to repeat herself endlessly for the applause of readers. To rebel was to risk losing them by venturing into unfamiliar ground. Thus, she names the truth: both paths can attack, and neither is without cost. Success, then, is not the end of the struggle but the beginning of a subtler war—the war to remain true to one’s inner voice.

The lesson for us is profound: we must walk carefully when success comes. Do not surrender wholly to rebellion, nor wholly to conformity. Instead, use both as tools. Let rebellion protect your originality, but not destroy your stability. Let conformity preserve your discipline, but not smother your fire. The art of life is to balance these forces, to wield them rather than be crushed by them.

Practically, this means pausing often to ask: “Am I creating from fear, or from truth? Am I clinging to safety, or am I destroying recklessly?” Success will amplify both temptations, but wisdom lies in listening deeper than either voice. Seek the quiet of your own heart, the center where neither rebellion nor conformity holds dominion, and act from there.

Thus, Amy Tan’s words ring like a warning bell across the ages: beware the double attack of rebellion and conformity. When success crowns you, do not imagine you are free of danger. You stand instead at a crossroads where both forces demand your soul. To endure, you must master them, neither breaking all bonds nor clinging to all chains, but choosing instead the path of truth. Only then will success not destroy you, but serve you.