I thought I was getting comfortable with failure

But I'm just getting comfortable being human

I have “failed” a great deal. And not just quiet failure (although lots of that too).

Photo by Estela Camuñas on Unsplash

Imagine falling face-first onto the pavement, the ground already strewn with splattered egg. The egg then sticking to your face and then getting up, walking around, pretending that the egg isn’t there, even though you can see it in the mirror, and it’s very obvious to other people. Folks chuckle and laugh but you have no idea (or pretend not to know) why they are laughing.

That’s how I see myself.

I recently asked a group of women if some of them would help me. And some of them showed up for me.

Here’s some things I’ve been ruminating about since then.

I can be obstinately stubborn and tenacious.

And while that served me well as a survival mechanism in some of the darkest times of my youth and adulthood, and what made me a survivor, it’s not always a good overall living and connection strategy.

It often makes me feel disconnected and alone.

What made me strong also made me struggle to ask for help. And even when it was given, I struggled to accept it; to be open to receive it.

Something in me doesn’t trust it.

While I think I’m being strong, my actions show folks I don’t need connection.

That’s not true. I long for connection but my past tells me that connection doesn’t last. And it’s not real.

I felt as a young person that the folks I trusted to be there for me, to have my back, weren’t.

And I have clung to that story, that narrative and let it run in the background most of my life.

People can’t be trusted. I can only trust myself.

AND if I get too big, people will mock me.

I always picture that scene in the Stephen King movie Carrie, where the high school students make Carrie (shy, awkward but with witchy powers) the Prom Queen. Then Carrie gets pig’s blood dumped over her head on the high school stage. Her rage is unleashed and scary things happen. It IS a horror flick.

Other irrational thoughts:

• The floor will always be pulled out from underneath me, and I will be brought to my knees. That shit is real.

• I am afraid of rejection.

• I am afraid of being sad about that.

• I am afraid to count on anyone.

• I am afraid to feel all of those things because I bottled them all up inside me a long time ago.

I’m feeling them now. I’m remembering them. I’m staying with them. I’m staying with ME.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s messy. I want to run away from it, but I’m staying with ME. I’ve removed as many numbing tactics as possible so I can feel fully embodied.

I’m staying IN me. I’m being here for ME. I’m embracing and attempting to love the shadowy parts of me.

And while that may sound counterintuitive in this situation, sticking to myself, it’s actually showing me that I can feel disappointed, sad, unvalidated, misjudged and rejected, and still be okay with ME.

There is no shame in any of those things because they are part of being human.

NOT loving the insecure and scared me, robbed me of the confidence in myself that I can feel love for myself , all of me, and emerge from it.

I’ll be honest, I thought I was good at feelings and accepting myself.

What I haven’t realized is that it was the fear of feeling shitty and ashamed of the parts of myself that aren’t perfect, that sent me spiralling.

Feelings aren’t bad. Failing isn’t bad.

So when I try something and fail, I don’t have to make it about other people and the obstacles that show up. Other people face obstacles and they keep going. Or they call it a day and move on.

I can too. And I can feel good about even trying.

Feeling allows me to let go of how I think things should go and accept what is.

If I am being me and not a version of myself I think would be more palatable, more stoic, more acceptable, I can be open to receiving help.

Listening instead of holding on with white knuckles.

I can let go and allow spaciousness and assistance, without judgement, fully accepting myself. That I am indeed not a failure for needing some help.

In other words, I can allow myself to be human, let the human IN me be seen, merging what I am feeling inside with my outside.

And let the chips fall where they may because it’s all part of my human education and my time earthside.