Failure
Failure is our friend, folks. Time to stop pretending it doesn’t exist, and feeling ashamed, embarrassed, or less than because of it. Let’s put it in the spotlight and talk about it, admire it, marvel at it.
I applied to get into a Master’s program in 2019 which I was convinced was the answer to my professional existentialist crisis. I went to the interview and was told before it was even over that I wasn’t going to be recommended. The interviewer and co-founder of the program told me she was doing me a favour because down the road, I’d realize that the program wasn’t what I thought it was. I cried and stupidly thanked her, unable to find the words to defend myself and convince her that this program was what I needed to get to where I wanted.
For months, I was left with a deep-seated resentment. It was the first time I had faced such stark, in-my-face rejection as an adult. The most unbearable part was having to tell people—all those who had supported me and my application in the process. Losing face is like taking a sword to the gut. Every time. It’s the result of a society that idealizes success and power.
En fin, this example of failure served as fuel to continue moving in my own direction. It was a re-orientation towards the long, dark, winding and mysterious road that for some reason, I’m called to take. If anything, I’ve learned to not hold back when it comes to investing in a good pair of shoes and to keep the company of good people who don’t care about how many degrees I have, what my title is, or how successful I am—people who just accept whatever it is I bring to the table.
Failure is inevitable, integral and true to our existence. It clears the path and sheds light for the next step to be taken, even if in the opposite direction of where we thought we should step. Failure serves as constructive feedback; it’s an opportunity for reflection, re-orientation and growth. The catch is we have to be ready to open our minds and do the work to unlearn what no longer serves our collective well-being.
