FAILING FABULOUSLY
Written by Carissa Morais. Images via Unsplash.
Photo by Jean-Karim Dangou.
The client wants to know right this moment if we’re able to accommodate a last-minute campaign. The wedding decorator is gently suggesting that I should opt for dollar leaves over eucalyptus for the bouquet (“It’s just as beautiful as eucalyptus but soooo much cheaper!”). The senior executive is waiting to hear back about the media plan he had just submitted for my approval. On top of that, I’ve yet to give an answer to a friend who invited me to be a speaker on his podcast. It’s a sign of being overwhelmed, I think, when my brain interprets these no-big-deal, ordinary requests as a problematic math equation and then responds with a brain shutdown. No, I can’t do this now, my inner self says. I need to make sure that my decisions won’t lead to a failed outcome.
Once upon a time, my dad described to me that there are two kinds of people in this world: the risk averse and the risk taker. From the scenario above, you can pretty much guess which group I fall into. Although I must admit that there were some instances in life where it felt natural to take risks (e.g. switching majors, dating, taking up postgrad studies while juggling an advertising career, etc.), it was never in situations where the risk of failure outweighed safety. The only times I took risks without considering the fear of failure was when I wanted something really, really badly. It’s honestly a powerful and invincible feeling when you know that nothing can stop you from achieving what you so desperately desire.
Photo by Drew Darby.
Recently, I found myself in the lowest of lows in my career. A year ago, I applied for a new position within the company and was awarded the role of leading a department. It was the scariest experience of my life (no, I’m not exaggerating here) and ended up being an “I-told-you-so” moment — mostly from me, because I sorta knew from the beginning that I was going to fail. Now, before you come to me with the self-fulfilling prophecy argument, let me clarify and say that I saw this as a chance to push through the fear of failure and do it anyway. What really fueled me to take on this role was the passion for the industry and the dedication to grow and nurture people into being the best they could be. And there was still the other question that gnawed at the back of my mind, “What if I actually succeed?”
Anyway, long story short: in less than a year, all that I strived for no longer exists. The department that I was leading had restructured, team members had chosen to move on and I was left with two choices to make: the path that was set for me by key decision makers or a path where I could choose to reinvent my career. It was a season where I experienced a range of emotions: disappointment (at myself, mostly), hopelessness and weirdly, peace and acceptance. It was rather humbling to come to terms with the fact that for once, I wasn’t a high performer and yes, I failed. The fear of failure was there all along. It crippled me and held me back but I pushed through, gave it my all and chose not to look back. Perhaps there was also a dose of imposter syndrome there that was the icing on the cake. Now, at the risk of making this sound like a sob story, here’s where the light at the end of the tunnel began to emerge.
Photo by Joshua Sortino.
Experiencing the fear of failure and then actually failing led me through an enlightening path, where I realized that I could either choose to be a victim, or learn from that experience and forge a new path. So, that’s exactly what I did. I disconnected from the noise surrounding me and reconnected with my goals. It took me a month of mindful healing and reframing negative thoughts to make me realize that this is the perfect time for me to reinvent myself. Once I’d crafted the path I wanted to take, I threw myself into learning and connecting with new people. At one point, LinkedIn Learning and Skillshop became my closest allies because I was constantly learning new things that would propel me in the direction that I was heading. While this may sound positive, I will not deny that there were weeks where I woke up feeling hopeless, with bouts of regret crushing my chest, and nights where I went to sleep at 9pm just to silence the mental clutter.
Although it took a while for things to fall into its natural rhythm, I knew that all I could do was to trust the process. I mean, I’d already fallen flat on my face. What else was there to lose? If there’s anything that failure has taught me, it’s that we need a good dose of “loser” once in a while because it helps us remember that we’re not perfect, we don’t know everything and that there is always room for improvement. Besides that, there’s an added edge in your step that comes from having “been there, done that.” Perhaps it's new-found confidence, or as my boss put it, the result of “failing fabulously.”
Photo by Alvin Balemesa.
It took me two days of working through my internal chatter (some like to call this “overthinking”) to finally write this. At first, I was afraid that sharing my story might lead to scrutiny. That’s when it hit me: once again, I could succumb to my fear of failing an article, or use this as an opportunity to provide a different perspective. Anything that’s worth doing will always be difficult and laced with the risk of failure. I like how former Canadian ice hockey player Wayne Gretzky put it, “You miss 100% of the chances you don’t take.” Think about it: isn’t it sad to look back and realise that life could have been so much more vibrant and meaningful if we’d allowed ourselves to fail and emerge?
Some of my closest friends asked me if I would take up a role like this again in the future. Hell yeah, I would—because this time I’d have experience as my teacher and a little more sass to finally own it.
