the hangover.

i’m just coming through the fog of an epic hangover, and it didn’t involve a single glass of wine!

recently, i heard someone speaking on the topic of failures and they said: “life is texture.” which sounds poetic, doesn’t it? but, how does it feel to be fully vulnerable and have it not work out? it doesn’t feel poetic. texture is rough. abrasive. uncomfortable. it isn’t ‘smooth as silk’ (also the – slightly misleading – tagline for thai airways!). it is more like the rug burn you get after one has been pulled out from under your feet.

over the past few months, i have been applying for my dream job, as principal at my school. i knew the timing wasn’t ideal, having just finished treatment. i knew success, for me, was going to be if i represented myself authentically. i knew that if i finished the process and people knew who i was and what i believed about learning, about leadership and about relationships than i had reached my goal. that sounds good, doesn’t it? according to that criteria, i was successful.

but, i didn’t get the job.

cue: vulnerability hangover.

i started listening to this podcast called ‘how to fail‘, in the days leading up to the announcement. my counselor told me you can’t really prepare for failure (ie: visualizing failing doesn’t actually make you better at it), but i wanted something that would soften the blow. in each episode, they interview successful people and have them discuss their three biggest life failures. the premise is that learning to fail is really learning to succeed.

i believe that failure takes practice. for the first few decades of my life, not that much of significance went wrong. i got a D in math in grade 4. i didn’t win the election for student council secretary in high school. once, i got yelled at by my boss at the pool for making a poor decision. these were teeny tiny missteps in the scope of a life.

the big failures – the ones that require flexing those grit/resilience muscles – i’ve had more practice lately. if i was on the podcast, here are the three biggest life failures that i would share:

my first failure was when i failed out of third year university. i had taken on too much and i simply couldn’t complete all my assignments on time — i was faking it in front of all my friends so they thought i had it all together. i remember going to a counselor and admitting for the first time that i couldn’t finish. that i was going to fail. and having to call my parents and tell them that i was going to have to do another year of university. at the time it was crushing. i literally thought i had ruined my life. i completely fell apart. i started having panic attacks, and struggled with anxiety for the first time in my life. this screw up taught me so much: that it wasn’t the end of the world, that everyone fails at something, that procrastinating ultimately isn’t a sustainable strategy, that acknowledging the truth is important even when it hurts.

my second biggest failure was getting sick. this was a different type of failure. technically, it was not the result of a misstep. however, it was a vivid reminder that i am not, as i previously may have wanted to believe, invincible. it was a failure on behalf of my dermatologist for missing the mole. it was a failure on behalf of my body, for not being able to control the rapidly dividing cells. it was a failure because it was one of my most significant setbacks. by saying it was a failure, i am not saying it was my fault. i believe in life that we cannot control all of our failures, and what really matters is how we respond to them. getting cancer has given me infinite wisdom. i will literally never be the same person. i feel utterly exhausted, emotionally raw and deeply misunderstood. i feel like i’ve gone on a trip to another planet for 100 years, but only a few minutes passed on earth. i feel this need to reintroduce myself to the world but no one realizes i was gone and i don’t even know this new version of myself yet. i hope the rock bottom of this diagnosis will become the foundation for a new life, but there are still many days where the sadness and fear are crushing and paralyzing. in my head, i know that moving through this time will give me the coping skills and resilience to conquer anything that life throws my way (in so many ways, it already has). but my heart hasn’t caught up yet. i’m still grappling with the blow, with feeling left behind in life and with the collateral damage.

my third biggest failure was a few weeks ago: when i didn’t get the job. it was the biggest job i had ever applied for. it was a rigorous application process, with numerous rounds of interviews, and it was public. i was fully exposed, flaws and all. i was brave, vulnerable and true to myself. i took a risk, put myself out fully, and it didn’t go my way. as much as i knew this was a very possible outcome, i was still struck by quite the vulnerability hangover. i felt tired, drained, raw and slightly bruised. compared to cancer, it was a blow, but not a crushing one. i’ve certainly had days where i felt disappointment as well as low self-efficacy. i’m only human. putting your heart and soul into an organization and then being told — “you’re not the one“. it feels like a breakup, like a public rejection. the perspective and wisdom of my recent experiences remind me that i’ve been through so, so, so much worse; however, i’m not over it yet. on the heels of my diagnosis, the feelings are all braided and knotted together, at times indistinguishable from one another. in my moments of insight, i am reminded that certain doors close so that others can open — and that there will be many jobs in life that i don’t get. i learned so much from the process, and i am proud that i was considered as a finalist.

some failures are due to mistakes. some failures are out of our control. and some failures happen because we take risks. one of my core values is courage — and if i want to live a courageous life — i have to accept that i will fall flat on my face.

i’m not grateful that i didn’t get the job. i like to think they made the wrong decision. BUT, if i want to be a strong female role model for the next generation, i need go to get back up, get back in the ring and look everyone in the eye rather than crawling back into bed.

well, maybe i’ll take another nap first. naps are good. this failure thing is exhausting!

*this is a lotus flower that i photographed on a tour in bangkok at some point in 2017. lotus flowers are known for growing and struggling through the muddy waters, and emerging beautiful and whole.