It’s 9 p.m. on a Monday night and the blog post I’d planned to publish today, entitled “Confession: My ‘No-Makeup’ Look is Anything But,” is sitting in my drafts, unseen by eyes other than mine, simply because I’ve lost the nerve to click “publish.”
The conversation I’m having with myself goes something like this: Do I really want to share such a private part of myself? Sure, when I go out into the world, others see the end result of the products I apply to my face, but need I detail how I got there? If I did publish the post, what’s the worst that could happen? What am I so afraid of?
There are lots of things I want to do differently in 2015: lose weight, exercise more, procrastinate less. You know, the usual. But the most important thing I want to do differently in 2015 is to live my life without fear of failure.
In 2014, I realized that for each time I choose comfort and safety, I deny myself the opportunity to learn something about me and about the world in which I make my home. To that end, I’m going to spend 2015 chasing failure. I don’t mean that I’m going to actively seek ways to fall flat on my face–what I mean is that I’m going to accept that failure is merely a part of life for someone who’s willing to take risks.
There’s a quote attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt that suggests each day, I should do something that scares me. Well, I’m taking baby steps toward that goal and actively seeking ways at least one time each week where I’ll risk failure. Whether it’s pitching my first story to a magazine or starting a conversation with a perfect stranger, I’ll be trying new things more often and, as a result, likely failing more often. And I’m okay with that.