Have you ever noticed that no one likes to talk about their struggles in the present tense?
We all like to wax poetic reflecting on the great adversity we have conquered in our lives…..after the fact. When said adversity is a skeleton in the grave, we seem so wise and experienced looking back on harder times. But no one ever talks about the current and bloody battles they face. Not unless they are joking about how “sooo broke” they are at brunch. People don’t really share their immediate insecurities about their rocky relationship. No one talks about the acute anxiety of waiting to hear back about those important lab results.
And who admits that they have to move unexpectedly because they didn’t get the job and all their freelance work dried up?
Me, I guess.
Hello everyone, my name is Elizabeth Blake and I am a failure.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit melodramatic but still. I am currently the definition of a Hot Mess™ and it sucks. As my kind and supportive big sister so insightfully put it: “your life isn’t actually over, you’re just in your twenties. Everything feels like the end of the world because you don’t have the life experience yet to know that it’s not.” And I bet she’s right, She’s pretty smart, after all. But wow, no one tells you how bad it feels to be forced to admit failure when you went on about how you were going to make it on your own. My pride still smarts from that humbling moment.
“I was wrong” is such a powerful and painful realization but it was so necessary. I’ve had to reevaluate my choices. Be vulnerable and ask for help. Change my trajectory.
Like that pun I saw on a shirt years ago says: when nothing goes right, go left.
If none of the doors you try are unlocked, change tactics; start looking for the keys!
For me, as paradoxical as it seems, admitting defeat was my first step away from a catastrophic meltdown.
So my job gamble didn’t work. I lost some money and gained some insight. Call the experience a life tax. Mistakes always cost something, that’s what we learn from, that’s what reminds us of them down the road. The shame is the proof that I am smarter now, I know better. And after all the tears and angst, at the end of the day, I know that admitting I was drowning and grabbing onto the life preserver was the right call.
It’s time to climb aboard and adjust course. But first I’ve gotta go pack.
Here’s to looking left, mates.
Copy Write Paste 