Freedom to Fail

One writer discovers the liberating and inspiring upside to owning our mistakes and grieving what might have been before moving on.

Inever feel better than after I’ve failed. That’s when my fear of the worst-case scenario gives way to a wave of relief and calm. I slowly begin to feel like a functioning person again. Failure is my favourite route to freedom.

I’ve failed in big ways (enter: reckless spending and nearly no income, which led to the loss of my apartment), and I’ve failed so inconsequentially that said failure wouldn’t register to anybody other than me (a perfectionist who’d spend nights rewriting class notes so they’d look neat enough…for me). But failure, no matter how secretly I welcome it, is always heartbreaking. And before embracing the euphoria of realizing that I’ve survived something I didn’t think I would, I mourn what could’ve been if everything had gone according to plan.

I do this in a variety of ways. If I’m feeling let down or disappointed, I may cry alone in front

of a comfort show like Top Chef. Or if I’m feeling defeated, I’ll consider setting my laptop on fire to reclaim my power in the most dramatic way. (But then I remember I’d have to buy a new one.) Ultimately, I grieve for the life that would have existed without my mistakes, and I force myself to face the path I’m on.

Which is easier said than done. With so much social media emphasis on fresh starts and resilience or the reminder that “you are exactly where you need to be” (ugh), to revel in the effects of failing seems like even more failure. Because now, on top of messing up, you’re wasting even more time reflecting. And we all know you can outrun the past by first burning every last shred of your sunken endeavour and then launching yourself into the next thing while salting the earth where your failures once stood.

But the thing is, acknowledging failure grants freedom. You get the freedom to make choices, and you can choose to rebuild, to learn or even to collapse, which is a choice, even though it feels inevitable. When you survive the realization that setbacks bring their own brand of freedom, you learn to circumvent the empty rhetoric that cushions the blow. (I mean, I love me an inspirational Instagram quote, but I also love feeling the necessary emotions that spring from, say, making a mistake and acknowledging the consequences.)

Plus, it’s important to carve out space for the grief that comes with hitting rock bottom—particularly since you never know what that grief will lead to. In my case, my failures have led to everything from life-changing revelations to the reminder that I can get through my worst-case scenario. And I’ve grieved for all the lives I couldn’t live—but getting to live the life I am living now, I’ve never felt freer.