Success?

Why am I driven so much now by the idea of success, by being recognized as a good writer by other people? Not that I don't work hard on my poetry, but it just seems to be written with one goal -- love and respect from strangers. It's probably the subject of a good poem itself. I have been having more success, but it doesn't seem enough. I always feel like I'm failing, even when I'm not. Too much envy, probably, not feeling like I'm doing well enough for someone who's 33. I know these are immature thoughts, but it seems right to acknowledge them so I can get a grip on my life. Probably everyone feels this way sometimes.