A Year of Failing Forward
January Edition
Hi everyone! It’s been a hot second since I’ve sat down and actually written something that’s more than a project or process explanation for this site. And while I’ve loved sharing the projects I’ve been working on and some insight into why we made the design choices we did, I’m also feeling like there are opportunities to help you all know me a bit better. Sure, you’re getting to know me as a designer and creative, but as I’ve been unpacking in therapy, I’m more than those titles alone. And as I believe that creativity is one of the most human things we have, I want to share more of my “human side” with you all.
I’ve been described as a perfectionist, a people-pleaser, an over-achiever, someone who (until recently, and let's be honest, it’s still a work in progress) put all of their self-worth into others’ approval. I lived for external validation and belonging and based my entire being on the expectations of others. At the age of 31, it's only now that I’m figuring out what things I actually like and what I don’t, separating my wants and needs from those others have told me.
It’s been confusing, messy, and pretty emotional, but that’s the human experience, right? Confusing, messy, and pretty f*cking emotional.
This idea of having a year of failing forward is an attempt for me to shed the narratives I’ve been living with. And to be clear, a number of these narratives were self-inflicted and self-exacerbated. Were some of them written in the chapters that followed external stories, sure - things like “I’m too dramatic,” “too opinionated,” “too sensitive,” “too eager.” I was told I tried too hard, that I wasn’t good at the things I genuinely liked doing - like art or dance (for those of you just getting to know me, dance has been and still is a huge part of my life). At a very young age, I was told by my peers that I wasn’t even a good person. And honestly, those narratives shaped me into a child and teen that was so afraid to mess up. I felt like I already was a huge burden and disappointment to those around me, that any slip would make them hate me even more. I began taking steps back from trying, shoving myself into a tiny box in hopes I didn’t bring any more negative attention to myself than I already was. I stopped raising my hand in class, stopped having opinions, stopped trying new things - and in hindsight, I’m realising I sort of stopped growing.
I hindered my own root system - no wonder I never felt like I was standing on solid ground.
Throughout my young adulthood, there were times I tried to shed those stories. College was a big one. It was a time for reinvention, a time to try and change how I felt about myself. Spoiler alert, it was basically a mega-fail. Sure, there were times I felt a true connection with people who actually saw me as me. I have a few wonderful and incredible friendships from that time that I cherish so deeply. But more so, college became the time I felt the most insecure. When I think about it, I can identify the times I tried to show up more authentically, but I was met with what felt like more rejection than before (like literally “dating” a guy who told me that dance shouldn’t even be considered art?!). There were definitely times I tried to “shine as me,” but in honesty, I think more than anything, I graduated feeling like I was in a smaller, even less significant box than before.
So, how did we end up here, at a year of failing forward almost a decade later? Mainly therapy, lol. But also the same want I felt as I left high school and entered college. A want to just show up authentically as myself, to be accepted as I am, but even more, to be proud of and confident in how I’m showing up (to maybe even be celebrated for it - which is still a wild thought to my brain). So, I’m taking the scariest leap and opening myself up to failure and disappointment - the same two fears I’ve been running from all these years. I’m giving myself permission to be bad at things. To try them for the sake of trying, regardless of the outcome. To try and disentangle myself from the narrative that I’m only lovable if I’m producing something “great” for or being in service to others.
As I tell my therapist, I just want to be a human BEING again, not a human MAKING.
This experiment is a means of rediscovering and reconnecting with myself. A way to find clarity and uncover my own thoughts and opinions vs. those of others. This first month, I’ve opened myself up to the world of vegan baking (something I told myself I would never be good at and shouldn’t even try) and even tried painting pottery. These experiences have been so incredibly liberating and genuinely fun. I’ve laughed harder than I have in years (at myself, of course) and have been proving to myself how capable I actually am. Sure, things take a few tries before you get the hang of it (I should know, as I tell my dance students all the time, but hey, this is a good reminder to take your own advice), but the process of learning from your mistakes can actually be more meaningful than when you have a natural inclination towards something.
To wrap up this much longer blog than I anticipated it being, lol, I want to share the few lessons I learned/reminded myself this month:
The right tools really do make all the difference…invest in them when you can
Laughing at yourself can be so incredibly healing
It’s okay to just play and try something new
Progress is progress, no matter how small
The second attempt is often much better…you don’t have to be so afraid of the first
You are more than capable…it may just take a few tries first
I appreciate you taking the time to walk with me on this journey of failing forward. And I hope it can be of help as you navigate your own journey, whatever that looks like. If anything, I hope it can help give you permission to try the things people told you that you shouldn’t or that you weren’t good at.
Give yourself the permission to play. Give yourself the permission to be a human being.
I’ll be right here, failing forward as one, right beside you <3
Love always,
