Celebrating the F word
It’s time to allow our failures to shine.
They (who are they anyway?) often say to focus on your “wins” and positives, but what if the answer is to celebrate the losses? What if this constant desire for outward recognition is actually sabotaging the end goal of happiness? It’s like when we neglect our shadow — not a good look, bro.
I’m a failure. There I said it.
Before you try to console me with reminders of how incredibly awesome I am, I want to tell you why I think the celebration of failure is a necessary part of a happy life. In this society, we are taught that our success measures our worth. But, unfortunately, the ruler used to measure this success is determined by the “powers that be” who sell us a pitch of fortune and fame wrapped up in the illusion of a home with a white picket fence.
Although I would normally interject with a speech about feminism and how I kicked out the idea of prince charming long ago, there is a problem with the “fierce empowered woman” story, too.
This type of pitch means well, but it perpetuates a stereotype filled with expectations. If I am a successful ____, then I will do ___ and be___, which will look like ____. The desire to embody a modern woman who can change the world is one I strive for, but is it realistic? Once I finally get to that point of this type of success, will I be happy? Will I experience those feelings that are seemingly associated with the idea of success? Probably not. Maybe success (whatever the fuck that means) isn’t the barometer for a happy life. Maybe failure is.
Failure isn’t usually a goal we strive for. We want a happy and healthy life, we want money in the bank, want to be comfortable, and failing is certainly not comfortable. I ask, however, why? Why is it that we seek comfort above all else? Is it because, long ago, the royals sat in luxury while the poor did their bidding? I don’t know, but it needs to change. The myth of “success” is failed.
These stories provide us with a sense of security, hope, and false promise. But, hell-bent on meeting the expectations set out for us by the rest of the world, we consume the self-help books and take the courses only to wind up doing what? Failing. We set ourselves up for it so, if we do fail, shouldn’t we appreciate the fact that we have attained the goal?
What if we flip this fiction on its head? What if there is a way to celebrate our failures more than our successes? Failure provides us with data. Failure is the key to growth which, in my opinion, is the key to true happiness. For me, segmentation is tantamount to death.
I don’t have steps prescribed for you because, honestly, I don’t think I believe that anyone can tell you how to approach your life. However, I can list my failures to name them, celebrate them and collectively praise them.
My Primary Failures:
- Friendships
- Money
- Career
- Family
- Romantic Life
- This blog
- Creative efforts
- Mental Health
When I look at this list, I consider the effort I’ve made to achieve certain tangible points of “success.” What would that look like, though? When I dig deeper into this idea of success, I sense happiness with no tangibility. In the world of recognition, I’ve had successes, but they do not bring me happiness.
The happiness I feel comes from nature, my dog, a good book, and nourishing relationships. Yet, when I consider the list of goals in my life, they often represent a different kind of external validation. I’m tired of it. Maybe the invalidation of others is what weI should truly seek.
What if the key to defining this happiness comes from failure? What if my inability to maintain long-lasting friendships will propel me towards a community that grounds me in myself? What if the years of struggling financially are the most exciting times of my life?
What if failure is the best thing to happen to us, and we’ve spent our lives focused on the wrong outcome? Of course, I’m not saying to ignore our successes. I just think it’s time to show our failures a little love too! At least we’re moving…and that’s all that really counts anyway.
