If You Grew Up Convinced You Were a Failure, I Get It

 

I grew up convinced I wasn’t going to be able to make anything of myself. I was taught I was unworthy, worthless, and that I wasn’t even ordinary. I wanted nothing more than to make my parents proud, carve out my own path and convince myself I was a somebody.

I realized I wasn’t just a somebody, I’m me. And that’s a good thing.

If you would have asked me ten years ago where I would see myself today, you’d get an answer of a Baptist wife, mother and hopefully using my love for piano to make music or even teach a Sunday school class. I remember when that last one became impossible after I made waves in my past church. I wanted so much to be considered as a candidate to teach young teens and specifically wanted to focus on their self-worth, but that never happened. Now, I look back and am glad, because I would’ve encouraged rebellion in the ranks (you can laugh here; I am). Teaching others while my journey was just beginning and heading in a different direction, nonetheless, would have been… well, it would have definitely been interesting.

When all those things that I saw myself at eighteen didn’t come true, I remember trying to forge my own path yet again. A couple years after graduation (an unaccredited diploma unfortunately), I applied for college at a Christian fundamentalist university. I ended up having to withdraw after I was accepted once my student loans fell through. Now, looking back, I’m grateful as the school was very controlling, with some students and former staff stating it was a cult in and of itself. Then, of course, there was a huge sex abuse scandal that they’re still battling today. I would never have made a good psychologist when they would teach me how to hurt people instead of actually help them anyway.

To say I felt like a failure was an understatement. Later that year, my health failed tremendously, and I couldn’t even keep the meager job I was working for an in-group member. I lost that, too. It felt like I kept losing everything at that point. I even lost my faith, community, and family in many ways. Mostly though, I lost myself.

I spent a long time unsure of who I was and not caring too much about that either. I was defeated and felt defected, like I was broken and the worst possible mess ever. Lacking the motivation to change things due to depression didn’t help matters. So, I suffered for a quite awhile just like that. Gradually though, and after a kick in the pants from reality, I decided I wanted to exit the land of the dead and start living. Because I had fallen so low, hit the ground so hard, gaining my wings has meant I fight for the life I want maybe even harder now.

It often feels like I’m climbing an uphill battle just to accomplish even the most basic of things, to reach milestones so many people may take for granted. Maybe that’s why I savor the victories, big and small, so sweetly. They’re hard won, earned. With wins, there also comes the countless losses. I had to accept I’d fail at some things, not pass certain tests, to get to the point I am now.

And I don’t like that word: Failure. It holds so much sting, an unneeded weight in its meager seven letters. To be a failure was pounded into my mind so much so that I was convinced that I failed even with simple and normal human mistakes. I had to do things “right,” or I got everything wrong. I’m sure this likely stemmed from the black-and-white mentality displayed throughout my community. Why this is so dangerous is that it gives no room for us as human beings to learn and develop naturally. We learn from mistakes, by trying to figure things out for ourselves. We get to make mistakes, “fail” at some things to become better at them.

And then there’s that impossible bar set ridiculously and unrealistically high….

I have put so much pressure on myself to add up to a mark set by people that I don’t even know. I’m nearing thirty and I feel I should be farther in life than I am. If I go down this unnecessary road in my mind, I tend to see that black-and-white thinking appear. I give myself no excuses, but most importantly I neglect to consider the explanations that leant to being “behind in life” than maybe most of my peers.

 For starters, I was born in a very strict religious community and that translated to deficits in my socializing, knowledge, and especially my education. Then, you add trauma to that (although I would argue growing up in a cultic environment is, in fact, traumatic). While I should have been growing and thriving as a child, I was instead simply surviving. In that state of survival, you are just trying to stay alive. Your brain and body cannot grow, and you will behind those that fortunately don’t have trauma to contend with. Now, add my health. My health has and will continue to prevent me from accomplishing goals of mine in a traditional sense. I’ll always have to find ways to work around that often frustrating aspect. There will be things that simply may not happen, but there will be others that I will work through. The point is that if you have factors that contributed to you being behind in life now than your peers, it’s important to not mentally beat up for what marks and milestones you’ve yet to reach. Every setback is just that: a setback. We can push through and succeed. We can start by reminding ourselves that we are exactly where we need to be in this moment and go from there.

Celebrating your victories is so important. And I celebrate every single one. I celebrated getting my learner’s permit later in life, then my license. Then, I celebrated the first paid job I ever received. When my fist article was published, I was in disbelief. And anytime I get to use my talents, many I learned during my time in-group, those moments are more meaningful to me. Those examples are just a few, but truly every time I stand up for someone else or myself, I win. Whenever I choose to bravely object to something that I don’t want, no matter how small, that is a victory, too.

Maybe it was our family, our pastors, our faith communities (or the cults we belonged to) that ingrained those deep-rooted feelings of shame, of being a loser, or a failure into us that haunt us till this day. Maybe it’s not even very apparent those feelings or thought processes are there, but rather, something that is just under the surface in our subconscious that appears out of nowhere. Maybe it’s that unexplainable feeling that has us believing that we somehow missed the mark.

I truly believe we’d all miss less marks if we stopped borrowing other’s means to measure our own individual journeys. We’re not going to be at the same place, no matter the hiccups along the way, as others. We’re not all going to reach a set point as our peers do. If you have experienced hardships, have mountains to climb, you even more deserve giving yourself some grace.

Show yourself some grace. Respect your journey. Respect your hard work, your determination, your courage. Recognize your survival. Yeah, maybe we’re not where we want to be, but we’re still on this journey, aren’t we? We have time. Yes, time. We get to decide how our story will turn out. After all, we now hold the pen.

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