At some point in my life, I have failed, which makes me a failure. You know what? You’re a failure. Your kids, parents, friends, coworkers, and even those people in your life you hate because they look like they’ve got it all together—they’re all failures. And you know what else? It’s okay to fail. You can’t help but fail sometimes. However, despite its inevitability, we don’t like to talk about it.
Let’s make this clear: I hate failure. I’m a perfectionist and that plays a role, but like most of the general public, I try my hardest to succeed. When I don’t succeed, I immediately start analyzing, where did I do wrong? and, what could I have done to make it work? and then, why did I not think of that before? And then I go off in a downward spiral of self-loathing and desire to never make a mistake again. Needless to say, it’s not pretty. I know I’m not the only one who feels like this, but it doesn’t make it any better, knowing there are tons of us roaming the world, trying to make everything “perfect” like such a thing exists. (Even if we know it doesn’t, social media sure makes perfect seem plausible, which doesn’t help. But that’s a topic for another article.)
I am a huge proponent of failing (well, of other people failing, but in the nicest way possible) because:
I totally understand it. I love Meet the Robinsons (please go watch it if you haven’t already) and the message it has about moving forward and learning from mistakes. You haven’t failed; you’ve simply figured out another way that does not work. There are a bunch of motivational quotes that I fully support, so long as they are being told to someone else. I see the merit and truth in such messages, but when it comes to my own life, I can’t handle it.
Why am I so afraid of failing?
I know anything worthwhile in life involves the risk of failure. I know you can’t possibly escape life unscathed by failure and honestly, I wouldn’t want to. I learn, I grow, I mature from my failures. Yet in the moment of failure, I am overwhelmed by an onslaught of self-hatred and regret. As much as I mentally prepare myself, I cannot prevent the feelings.
What I fail (ha. No pun intended) to remember is that just as my successes do not define me, neither do my failures. I said in my last article, “You are not what you do, what people think of you, or what you have” and I still believe it. But I want to add that you are also not what you cannot do. You and I are afraid of failing because we think our failures will permanently affect us. And we’re right because our mistakes are something we never forget—whether we let them drag us down for the rest of our lives or we learn from them is the choice we must make.
So let’s talk about failure. We don’t have to share with everyone, of course, because that is not necessary (and would be oversharing). However, let us gracefully and openly accept our mistakes, not because we’re proud but because we’re not ashamed.
