Failure
Recently, I failed at something. And it wasn’t a small, everyday kind of mistake. It was something important to me, something I believed in, invested in, and worked hard for. When it didn’t go the way I expected, it hit me like a jolt. I have quite a history with failure but usually I see it coming; this time I hadn’t. I was shocked.
And then, my failure script kicked in hard. I’ve done a lot of personal development work over the last decade or so and sometimes I’ve wondered whether my fear of success is greater than my fear of failure. This showed me it isn’t; failure is really where my stuff lies.
The Failure Script
We all carry internal stories or scripts that shape how we interpret our experiences. Mine has a very specific voice. It says things like:
- “FFS, not again!”
- “Other people wouldn’t have let this happen.”
- “This just confirms you’re not enough.”
For those of us with a strong failure script, failure isn’t just about the situation. It becomes personal. Identity-level. It’s not “That didn’t work out.” It’s “I didn’t work out.”
So when this recent failure happened, my first response wasn’t curiosity or compassion, it was shame.
What I Made It Mean
This failure triggered every old belief I thought I’d outgrown:
- That I’m behind.
- That I’ve disappointed people.
- That maybe I’m not as capable as I thought.
The shock wasn’t just in what happened. It was in how quickly I collapsed into meaning-making. My mind took a single event and narrated a story about who I am.
I know better than to believe these stories and yet, in the moment, they still feel true. That’s the power of a well-known script.
The Lessons I Tried to Avoid
For a while, I did what I’ve done before; I tried to move on quickly. Find the silver lining. Reframe. Rationalise. But it didn’t help. Not really.
Because the truth is, there are lessons in failure but you can’t shortcut to them. You have to feel your way there.
And once I slowed down and became honest, I could see what this failure was showing me:
- That I still equate doing well with being worthy.
- That I need to be kinder to the part of me that’s terrified of disappointing others.
- That failure, while painful, can also be a moment of reorientation.
Staying With the Feelings
This time, I chose not to rush past the grief. I stayed with it. I let myself feel disappointed, embarrassed, sad. I sat with the ache. I breathed into the self-doubt. I cried. I told people about it.
And I didn’t disappear.
It sounds simple, but for me, this is radical. Sitting with uncomfortable emotions rather than judging, suppressing, or trying to bypass them is a kind of personal rebellion. It’s where the healing begins.
Healing
Failure often strips away illusions not just about the world, but about ourselves. It reveals what we still believe we have to prove, who we think we need to be, and what we fear we’ll lose if we fall short.
What really worked for me was getting some proper spiritual healing; I’ve been really leaning into this kind of work this year and it has really helped.
In the quiet aftermath of this recent experience, I’ve been asking myself:
- What am I believing right now about myself?
- Whose expectations am I carrying?
- What part of me needs understanding, not fixing?
- Can I stay with myself kindly, even here?
The truth is, I failed at something that mattered to me. And it hurt. But it also softened something in me. It reminded me that failure is a part of growth albeit a painful part.