My husband has said on multiple occasions, “If you’re failing, it means you’re trying.”
One of my greatest fears is the fear of failure. I’ve always struggled with being a perfectionist. I’m an oldest child, so maybe it comes with the territory.
When I was about 6, my parents enrolled me in gymnastics. I loved it - the somersaults, the handstands, the balance beam. But then I saw some of the older and more skilled gymnasts. They were swinging on the uneven bars, doing spectacular flips. As I observed them, I automatically compared myself to them. I felt overwhelmed, afraid that I’d never be as good as they were. The fear of failure caused me to quit gymnastics a few weeks later, without really giving myself the chance to try it.
Throughout my life, there were many other moments like that day in gymnastics. I avoided or hid from failure at whatever cost. I preemptively quit things so I didn’t fail. If I ever made any mistakes, I covered up those mistakes and hid them as best as I could.
Later, in my early twenties, I learned about the Enneagram, a personality tool that identifies 9 different types of people. My test results revealed that I was a Type 1, called the Reformer. Reformers are principled, purposeful, self-controlled, and perfectionistic. I read this description, and thought, “Yup, an accurate description of myself.” The more I thought about my perfectionism, the more I wanted to kick it to the curb. I was tired of being so afraid of failure. I wanted to be the kind of person who is courageous and risky.
Now, I think of myself as a recovering perfectionist. I intentionally choose courage rather than fear. For me, this means I try things, even if I know failure is a likely part of the experience. And when I fail, I tell trusted people about it so I’m not hiding in shame.
A few weeks ago, I had to have a conversation with a family member. I knew this conversation would be awkward and unpleasant, but also recognized that it was something I needed to do. There was lots of potential for failure. Instead of shying away in fear, I chose courage, and initiated the conversation. Afterward, I shared about it with my husband, “Well, it was kind of a failure. The person responded pretty negatively. But I did my part.” He gave me a high-five.
When all is said and done, I’d rather be a person who tried and failed, rather than being stuck in fear of failure.
One of my greatest fears is the fear of failure. I’ve always struggled with being a perfectionist. I’m an oldest child, so maybe it comes with the territory.
When I was about 6, my parents enrolled me in gymnastics. I loved it - the somersaults, the handstands, the balance beam. But then I saw some of the older and more skilled gymnasts. They were swinging on the uneven bars, doing spectacular flips. As I observed them, I automatically compared myself to them. I felt overwhelmed, afraid that I’d never be as good as they were. The fear of failure caused me to quit gymnastics a few weeks later, without really giving myself the chance to try it.
Throughout my life, there were many other moments like that day in gymnastics. I avoided or hid from failure at whatever cost. I preemptively quit things so I didn’t fail. If I ever made any mistakes, I covered up those mistakes and hid them as best as I could.
Later, in my early twenties, I learned about the Enneagram, a personality tool that identifies 9 different types of people. My test results revealed that I was a Type 1, called the Reformer. Reformers are principled, purposeful, self-controlled, and perfectionistic. I read this description, and thought, “Yup, an accurate description of myself.” The more I thought about my perfectionism, the more I wanted to kick it to the curb. I was tired of being so afraid of failure. I wanted to be the kind of person who is courageous and risky.
Now, I think of myself as a recovering perfectionist. I intentionally choose courage rather than fear. For me, this means I try things, even if I know failure is a likely part of the experience. And when I fail, I tell trusted people about it so I’m not hiding in shame.
A few weeks ago, I had to have a conversation with a family member. I knew this conversation would be awkward and unpleasant, but also recognized that it was something I needed to do. There was lots of potential for failure. Instead of shying away in fear, I chose courage, and initiated the conversation. Afterward, I shared about it with my husband, “Well, it was kind of a failure. The person responded pretty negatively. But I did my part.” He gave me a high-five.
When all is said and done, I’d rather be a person who tried and failed, rather than being stuck in fear of failure.