Fear of FAILURE
Going by the title, this post may be darker than most I have written. Or maybe its just misdirection to get you to read further. Let’s find out together.
Early on, when I had the courage to dream of things that now seem unrealistic under the cynical eye brought on by years of disappointment, I wanted to be a pilot. They seemed so cool. They were up in the air, going to all sorts of unimaginable places in the blink of an eye. They weren’t confined to the surface we all roamed. They soared high above us, without limitation.
My parents, however, would not have that. A pilot? Why…it was way too dangerous. Did I want to drop down from the sky at any moment? Live a life of uncertainty? Surely not. I needed a structured dream. A practical one to boot.Soon after, as kids do, I latched on to another dream. I wanted to be a neurosurgeon. I would tell this to anyone who asked and believe me, they asked. Who doesn’t ask a child about the boundless future sprawled out before them?
I was loyal to this dream. I even went as far as to meet a couple of doctors that I had access to. I’d watch the movies and TV Shows. Read the Scientific Encyclopedias. Cringe at the photos I saw on my father’s computer. He, as well as my mother, are of the medical persuasion after all.
Through high school, I reaffirmed my aspirations by excelling in Math and the Sciences. This trend lasted for the first two years; until, in my 3rd year, Chemistry just stopped making sense. I was at a loss. ‘It must be the exam’, I thought. Or rugby might be an unhealthy distraction. The latter was a notion not of my invention, but that of my parents.
A year passed and it only got worse. I started realizing sadly that the dream I was so intent on fulfilling was most certainly going to elude me. I stuck with Chemistry to the bitter end, for no other reason than to dispel any doubt that the future wasn’t securely intact. I,however, knew better.
In campus, I took up Computers as a way to kill time, before I joined the league of medics. It wasn’t by any means easy. I failed a couple of times in the beginning and was intent on giving up. I looked back at all the dreams abandoned. I saw the trend.
I would pick a path, and start earnestly on it. After a while the well worn path got rocky. Worse still, it got steeper. I’d look ahead and see an insurmountable struggle. Realizing that failure was a high possibility, I’d walk back (seemingly unscathed) and picked another path.
I was avoiding failure. That was safe. It protected whatever image I had worked on painting in the past. I excel. I don’t fail. I should never fail. I’m afraid of what people will think. I’m afraid to fail.How long would I pin this image on the wall before it got worn with age? I wasn’t Atlas, cursed with the task of carrying the world, but my heart felt just as heavy.
I had had it. I took a risk. A risk that I realized I have taken every day since. I wake up and get prepared to fail. I may not want to, no one does, but we all do at one point or another. Sometimes its the healthy amount of once a day. Some failures are bigger than others. Some failures have effects that last longer than others. The fact of the matter is, we all fail. What’s really important is what you do after…
