The Reality of Failure: When Picking Up the Pieces is BS Advice

That gut-wrenching feeling of failure, or at least perceived failure, has been haunting me lately. I really despise the rhetoric of “there is no failure, only growth.” I much prefer, “there is failure, and it will change you.” Sometimes for the better.

Call me pessimistic, but there will always be failure. Sometimes enough to draw you to tears, other times so gut-wrenching that it causes you physical pain.

It’s such a strong word and not one to be used lightly, especially since, most of the time, we haven’t failed. To fail is definite. It’s an ending. There is no coming back. And yet, of course, we do. We manage to pick ourselves up, dust off, and fight another day. As time passes, the wounds become a little less sore. Time is the greatest healer, as the saying goes.

Not running Wuhan (spoiler) seemed to set off a cascade of events that saw me go from one disaster to another. It’s funny how that happens. I’m a firm believer in energy, vibrations, and good vibes, so I trouble myself with the guilt that I probably brought this on myself. Double whammy.

I recently read Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin. Towards the end of the book, Sadie is talking to her old flame Dov about getting over failure, and this short passage really struck a chord with me:

The thing about not running in Wuhan is that I knew it was the right thing to do, but I’d set myself this goal. I’d trained really hard. I’d sacrificed. I was invested. So it felt all the more painful to pull out. But the real kicker, the part that I struggled with the most, was that I’d publicly declared that I would run it. It was out there, for all the world to see me fall short. I'd deceived people. I hadn’t lived up to expectations. I call myself a runner but didn’t even turn up to run the race.

Oh, the shame. The crushing, blinding, anxiety-inducing shame.

So much of this is wrapped up in how others see me. I’ve told you before that my biggest fear is letting people see me fail, and yet here I am, sharing a choice that set off a spiral of letting myself (and everyone else) down.

It reminds me so vividly of the experience of being evaluated, judged, and graded as a teacher. Now, I’m not one of those people who doesn’t think evaluation, appraisal, performance management, or growth conversations should take place—I totally buy into the fact that evaluation (or whatever you want to call it) is an important piece in understanding how a school staff is serving its community and its ultimate purpose. The challenge is that it is so exposing. It is so public. Here we are, giving our absolute all to a job we love, only for someone to come in for half an hour and make a judgment call on us, or ‘grade’ us against a list of tick boxes that often have no bearing on our ability to deliver exceptional experiences for our learners.

And that’s assuming the person doing the evaluating can even walk the walk themselves (there is nothing more cutting than having your teaching dissected by someone barely average in the classroom). But this newsletter isn’t a piece about teacher evaluation (or bad conversations)—I have enough thoughts on that. Enough for a book, even (don’t hold me to that idea!).

Ten days. Ten days it took me to pull myself together. To feel like the compression I felt in my head was dissipating. Like the knot in my stomach was loosening. They say that failure doesn’t define us but it does leave a mark, and it can leave us powerless to the mercy of our own thoughts at times. Our own fears, insecurities, and doubts. What ironically helped me the most during those days was letting go of the expectation to bounce back, to be all reflective, to learn, to adapt, to embrace. Instead, I gave myself permission to sit with it. To notice it. To be okay with not being okay. To share with a close friend that I was struggling. And eventually, it moved, it calmed, and it softened. It let me sleep through the night.

Perhaps not your ordinary post on failure, but my thoughts on the matter nonetheless.

As always, I’d like to share some of the things I’ve been working through during this time.

3 Things to Remember When You're Facing Failure:

Failure is a really shitty part of life. But it is not defeat. It is not the end. 

Failure feels terrible, and it’s okay to sit in that discomfort. It’s not always about finding the silver lining. Sometimes, you just have to sit with the pain for a bit. 

You are not defined by setbacks but you are shaped and marked by them.

You might feel like you've let yourself (or others) down, but the story isn't over yet, and the failure doesn't take away all the good you've already done or the success that's still ahead.

Talk to someone.

Not just anyone. Talk to someone who will listen and truly show up for you. If in doubt, tell them what you need from the conversation. Mine went something like this - “I don’t want your advice, I don’t want your commentary, or even your thoughts. I need you to listen, and perhaps hold out a tiny violin for me. Maybe next week I’ll feel ready to have a conversation about it.”