The Truth about Failure

I never wanted to fail at anything.

I wanted to be perfect.

I especially didn’t want anyone I knew or loved to ever see me fail.

So, when everyone saw my first MMA loss, I was devastated.

I left the cage battered and broken.

I couldn’t move my left arm.

My sister came to check on me as I walked backstage.

As she embraced me, the last of my shield broke and I started to cry.

I had let her down.

I let my team down.

I let my friends down.

I let myself down.

I walked back to the locker room and got changed.

My coach and team let me know I fought a good fight.

As we talked about the fight, I listened to what I had done well, and what I hadn’t.

They told me how I had the upper hand striking against my opponent.

That he had been much more prepared for the ground game than we anticipated. And that if I had kept my composure and mixed it up instead of continuing to go for the takedown, I might have had a chance.

Between rounds my coaches told me to settle down, relax, and keep it standing.

The bell rang.

And even after hearing the adjustment, I went right back to what felt familiar.

They didn’t criticize me or disown me.

They still believed in me.

And so did everyone else.

I realized then that all the pressure I had been putting on myself was exactly that.

Pressure I had been putting on myself.

As my friends and loved ones embraced me after the fight, the pressure started to lift.

I began to reflect on my loss.

On the support I was receiving.

On the feedback I got.

On how I could improve.

That was it.

That was the mindset.

That was the truth.

This loss showed me things I would have never known without it.

I would not know the love I could receive even after failure.

I would not know how to be better.

I would not know what still worked and what didn’t.

Failure is only failure if we do not go on.

Otherwise, it is the only way to know which way to go.