My biggest success is getting over the things that have tried to

When Tyler Perry declared, “My biggest success is getting over the things that have tried to destroy and take me out of this life. Those are my biggest successes. It has nothing to do with work,” he spoke as one who has walked through fire and lived to tell of it. His words strike like a bell in the heart, for they remind us that success is not measured in wealth, fame, or monuments, but in the silent victories over despair, trauma, and hardship. To endure when the world conspires against you is greater than any crown bestowed by men.

The ancients knew this truth well. When they told the story of Heracles, they spoke not only of his mighty labors, but of his survival against forces that sought to destroy him. His triumph was not only the slaying of beasts but the endurance of grief, madness, and betrayal. Tyler Perry echoes this ancient pattern: the greatest victories are not on the battlefield of the world, but in the battlefield of the soul. To conquer despair is to achieve a glory greater than any empire.

His words remind us that the wounds of life often cut deeper than the failures of work. A man may lose a job, a crown, or a fortune and yet recover. But when life itself tries to break the spirit—through abuse, loss, or suffering—the fight becomes elemental. To rise again after such blows is not merely survival, it is triumph. Perry himself endured poverty and trauma, yet speaks not of his films or plays as his true success, but of overcoming the shadows that once sought to consume him.

History too testifies. Consider Nelson Mandela, who was cast into prison for twenty-seven years. The world may remember him as president, but his greatest success was not in politics; it was in conquering bitterness during captivity, in refusing to let hatred destroy his humanity. By overcoming what tried to annihilate him, he became free long before the prison gates opened. His political triumphs were but consequences of this deeper, inner victory.

There is deep humility in Perry’s words, for he strips away illusion. He does not point to riches, though he has them, nor to renown, though he holds it. He points to the unseen struggles, the nights of despair, the unseen battles of the heart. In this he teaches us that every soul, no matter how lowly or great, has the opportunity for true success—for each of us will face forces that try to break us. And when we rise, we claim a victory greater than gold.

The lesson for us is clear: never measure your worth solely by outward achievement. Look instead to the hardships you have endured and overcome. Did grief try to silence you, yet you still sing? Did despair try to drown you, yet you still walk? Did failure try to bury you, yet you still rise? These are your greatest successes, the ones no one can take from you. They are invisible to the crowd, but they are the true pillars of strength in your life.

Practically, this means honoring your inner battles. Write them down, remember them, and see them as victories rather than scars. Encourage others by sharing not only your triumphs but your survivals. And when you meet hardship again—as surely you will—remind yourself that overcoming it will add to the treasures of your soul.

Thus, Tyler Perry’s words resound as a hymn of resilience: success is not the applause of the world, but the refusal to be destroyed by its cruelty. To endure is to conquer. To rise after being broken is to achieve the highest victory. And so, children of tomorrow, let this be your creed: your true success will not be found in what you build, but in what you survive.