Failure, failure, failure.
You used to be the ultimate skyscraper in my life. For a long time, it was embedded in me to not fail because failing meant that I was a loser, that I didn’t have the brains, or that I didn’t care.
But, those are just a bunch of deceptions that have caused more pain than peace.
In fact, I’ve been so tormented by the thought of getting things right that it was arduous to appreciate the process of what’s made it successful in the end.
Why was I terrified of you, Failure? Why had I beaten myself up for striving for perfection in such a warped reality that I lost a sense of identity I had yet to accept and cherish?
I sometimes wish I could find the answers to all of this, but for now, I learned to simply accept you, Failure. I accept that you are part of this ambiguous life, and therefore, you are a part of me.
And I am learning to love every single part of myself – the sun and the moon.
Failure, if there’s one thing I learned from you, it’s to take chances. The majority of my life consisted of dull “What ifs.” And having slowly accepted you, many things became vibrant “Awesome’s!” and “Oh, well’s.”
After all, as Prince Zuko once said: “Look, you’re going to fail a lot before things work out. Even though you’ll probably fail over and over and over again, you have to try every time. You can’t quit because you’re afraid you might fail.”
I’ve failed countless times moving forward, but my heart hasn’t felt as burdened when you were in control, Failure. Because instead of torturing my brain about everything that’s possibly made things go wrong, I took calming breaths, shrugged my shoulders saying “Oh, well,” and began focusing on finding other solutions.
Sometimes I’d even pat myself on the back, recharge, watch an episode of my current TV binge, and eat something sweet. Why? Because I understand that even though the results were lacking during the first – or fourth – attempts, I tried, I focused, and I did my very best with the knowledge, tools, and resources I had. Most of all, I have the courage to believe in myself and unlock my abilities to strive further, climb higher, and open my mind even deeper to all the possibilities.
So, Failure, you will always be that backache that keeps me from enjoying a relaxing sleep at night, but you will also always be that pillow that adds a bit of comfort.
I understand that even though I accept you in my life, it doesn’t mean that I still won’t give everything my all on the first try or go through a specific path. The part of me that still wants to get things right the first time will always be with me.
I simply learned to accept you when you are meant to happen, and a lesson is surely meant to be learned or I’m being led towards a different path. When you’re not around, I promise to remain humble. And when you make a guest appearance, I promise to look you in the eye, laugh and shrug things off, and try again.
You’re not so bad, Failure.
Would I say I love you and always want you around? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. But, you do keep things challenging and sometimes interesting. And no matter how much better I get at things, I know you will always be around to keep me on my toes and go above and beyond what I set out for myself the day before.
And with this, I believe that you no longer intimidate me, Failure.
*Day 4 of 30 Letters In 30 Days – Your Greatest Fear