I Need To Learn to Fail Better

I know it just comes down to caring too much.

If I didn’t care about the quality of my work or what people thought of me, I know that I could have a “devil may care” attitude about my performance. Except that I do, so I don’t.

Don’t get me wrong, I do not believe (in the slightest) that I’m perfect. In fact, I know that I will make a number of mistakes from time to time and some of them can be pretty sizable.

However.

What I also know is that I have a certain personal standard that I adhere to. I have a pride in my work, an awareness of my ability, that requires me to produce a quality product at all times.

Maybe I’m planning an event or creating a report, the task doesn’t matter, but if I know I can do it, “by golly, I’m going to do it well.”

But sometimes… I don’t.

And I don’t take it so well either.

Once again, it’s not because I think I’m perfect. I don’t have any fear of looking stupid to other people. Other people can know I make mistakes. My frustration comes internally. I beat myself up about it relentlessly because “I know that I’m capable of doing better.”

“That was a rookie mistake,” “I should have known,” the voice in my head will repeat.

Over. and over.

But, let’s be fair. In the grand scheme of things, how many people are *actually* flawless? (Sorry Beyoncé) No one. We are flawed creatures. We rush, overlook, forget, misspeak, under-deliver, over-promise, disappoint, delay, distract, ignore, and flat-out procrastinate from time to time.

I’m terribly guilty of most of these and I’m pretty sure that my anxiety stems more from wanting to do better than actually thinking others see me as a failure.

I care… (too much, at times).

I care because I think that people around me deserve consistency and quality. I believe that they deserve transparency and integrity. I want to have the depth of character to stand behind little mistakes that I make, say, “yup, I sure goofed,” (in a way that sounds more authentic than irreverent).

Today, I made a mistake.

Tomorrow I may make a few more. I won’t know until I try.

What I do know for sure is that this strange affinity for awesomeness is going to drive me to success (if I let it) because I hold myself accountable. I could let it hold me back and say, “you’re just not as good as you think you are,” or that voice in my head could say, “that wasn’t right, try again, learn from this, move on.”