Feeling like you’re failing can be an absolute suffocating, bottom of the whole, shit monster — a beast on your back that weighs you down. I say this from experience because I often feel like I’m failing and I share that for a couple of reasons. A. to shine a light on my own personal Beast (because what better way to scare something away than to confront it like, Hey You. Failing Monster. Yeah. I see you you trying to tear my down and it’s not cool.) And B… because I know I’m not the only one and I want you to know that you’re not the only one either.
At some point, most of us feel like we’re failing. It’s death by a million enoughs. You don’t feel successful enough, pretty enough, rich enough, smart enough. We aren’t invited enough, traveling enough, parenting enough, happily married enough. Maybe we aren’t where we want to be or thought we’d be by this point. It doesn’t matter what the reason or what the enough is — you’re not alone.
I want to preface this by saying that I get it; I’ve gotten the occasional side-eye when I talk about failing because from an outside perspective, it seems we’re living the dream: happy marriage, cute kids, I love what I do, and we live in Mexico. Cheap tacos, abundant tequila, and perfect weather. Most people think I’m lounging on a unicorn float, sipping a frozen margarita and tending to a perfectly golden J.Lo tan while mariachi bands play in the background. Creatively and personally, I’m here living my best life Oprah-style. But financially? Poke a hole in the unicorn float because here comes the beast to steal all the fun air out of my pool accessory and mess up my poolside flow.
Money is my beast, my “not enough” pain point. It’s my gut punch and karate chop to the throat. But when I shine a light on it like I did a couple weeks back when I shared that with friends, a magical, unicorn-esque thing happened. People began sharing their Beasts and I realized not enoughs and pain points exist for us all. Some people are making a fortune and totally hate their fucking job. Other people are fit and stunning specimens but haven’t found a partner to share their life. Some women can’t have babies, neither can some men. Some people can’t lose the weight, some people are getting a divorce, some people are buried in debt.
And it’s funny how the beast works. How I could have everything else going right but just one out of whack piece is enough to make me feel like I’m failing at the whole damn thing. But here’s the thing, guys; the thing I want you to lower the music and hear: you may feel like you’re failing but don’t confuse that with being a failure.
There. Is. Such. A. Colossal. Difference.
A failure is a state. To say, “I am a failure” is like saying “I am 38 years old” — those things don’t change. You may tell people you’re 34 and change the date on your birth certificate — but you are still 38, Donna. And next year, you’ll be 39. You can’t wish it away. It’s a fact.
But failing? There’s action in that; there’s movement. Failing is fluid. To say I am failing sounds like I’m just passing through. It isn’t a destination or a place I plan on staying and I’d bet it’s not a place you plan on staying either. Failing is part of my journey along with trying, growing, and changing — and freaking unicorn floats too — because celebrating is certainly a part of the journey.
And chances are — you aren’t even failing at a lot. You’re probably really, really good at a lot more than you’re not — like volleyball or making people feel special or planning parties or welcoming new friends to the neighborhood or being on time or baking cookies or never forgetting to respond to a text or making sweet ass Bento Box lunches for your kids — I could go on. Email me and I will. But my point is that you’re probably Master Splintering a lot of things but get hung up on the one thing that needs some work, that one thing that makes you believe you aren’t enough. And I know you do this because so do I.
So, stop. I say that to both of us. We aren’t just that one thing and to believe we are, to boil ourselves down to one thing — especially the thing we aren’t — takes away all the other exceptional things we absolutely are.
You may be failing at this one thing, in this one moment, but you are not a failure. So shine a light on that Beast and be like Yo. You gotta find a different pool today, ok? There’s no room on this unicorn float and the margarita machine is out.
And then, guys, you turn that unicorn float around and ride it into the sunset.
I hope you liked our first blog and podcast episode. I’d love to hear what you think. Leave a comment below.
P.S. That time we were on TV and that time I was on a podcast
