I used to see failure like a big red stamp on my forehead.
Proof that I wasn’t good enough. That I’d wasted time. That I’d never figure things out.
And honestly, for a while, I let that story sit there, unchallenged.
It took me years to learn that failure doesn’t mean the end.
It usually just means I tried.
And that’s a better story.
The moment I knew I had to look at it differently
A few years back, I spent months working on a project I really believed in.
I told everyone about it.
I poured my energy into every detail.
When it flopped, I felt sick.
Like I’d embarrassed myself.
For weeks, I kept replaying it in my head.
I’d think, “If I was smarter, it would’ve worked.”
“If I was more disciplined, people would’ve cared.”
One night, while journaling, I wrote something I didn’t expect:
“At least I cared enough to try.”
I read that line over and over.
It felt softer than the voice that kept blaming me.
That was the first time I thought maybe failure could mean something else.
What reframing looks like for me
I don’t pretend I love failing.
I don’t wrap it up in glitter and call it success.
But I do ask different questions now:
- What did this teach me that winning wouldn’t have?
- How did this stretch me, even if it hurt?
- What part of this was actually brave?
Usually, there’s something worth carrying forward.
A few failures I’m oddly grateful for
I’ve failed at launching a course nobody signed up for.
I’ve failed at relationships I thought would last forever.
I’ve failed at habits I swore would change my life.
But if I hadn’t tried, I wouldn’t know what fits me and what doesn’t.
I wouldn’t know what matters enough to try again.
Failure made my life messier.
But it also made it more honest.
How reframing helps me keep going
When I see failure as shame, I freeze.
I stop taking risks.
I stop caring.
But when I see failure as proof that I’m engaged — that I showed up — it feels lighter.
Not painless. Just lighter.
And lighter is enough to keep moving.
I’m not here to tell you failing feels good.
But I will tell you it doesn’t have to define you.
You can reframe it.
You can learn something.
You can keep trying.
Because every time you fail, you’re just proving you’re still in the game.
And that’s more than most people are willing to do.
