Relaunch: Failure

Failure. Now there’s a word that’s a slam to the gut. No matter what the circumstances are, failure claws at your self-esteem, and it hurts. It’s about feeling less-than. It’s about having your sense of worth compromised in a huge way. And it’s also about worrying that you’ve dropped down a peg or two in the eyes of the people who believe in you, no matter how sympathetic they are.

Failure is not something I’ve had a lot of experience with, and for that, I’m incredibly grateful. When I worked fulltime in radio, I felt valued and respected and wanted for the job I did and the person I was. When the babies were born and I had to cut back my hours, it was made known to me that I had a fulltime job waiting for me whenever I wanted to come back, and they wished it would be soon. That was the opposite of failure. And it felt good.

But that was also twenty-three years ago. About a year ago, when I decided I wanted to make the leap from free-spirited freelancer to fulltime employee (with benefits and everything) for the first time in nearly a quarter-century, those jobs were obviously not still waiting for me.

So I found something completely different. Just about ten months ago, I hooked up with a medical company in the corporate sector. The job involved voice-over work and writing, so at first glance, it seemed like the perfect fit. I figured I could handle the hour commute each way, and actually looked forward to the structure of a nine-to-five life. They hired me as a contract worker for a three-month trial period to start, making more money than I’d ever seen before in any job, ever. It was an exciting time.

Well, for a little while. It didn't take long to realize this company was a horrible fit for me. I was not cut out for the mind-numbing hours, the negative management style, the technological challenges, the nearly non-existent training, and the fact that I ended up not doing what I was hired for. It almost seemed I was being primed to fail. To sum up, I lasted only two months. I wish I could say I got fed up and stormed out of that dysfunctional situation with my head high and my pride intact, but that’s not what happened. Even though I was miserable and cried almost every night on my way home from work, I was too damn stubborn to give up. I ended up getting blind-sided in the HR office, my supervisor too much of a coward even to be present, and was told—very kindly and sympathetically, I might add—that I was no longer an employee. And so I went to my desk, gathered my things, said goodbye to my co-workers and tried not to blubber. In short, it was humiliating.

A friend told me recently that failure is simply the manifestation of being in the wrong place, and that makes perfect sense to me. I did not belong in that company. But the fact remains that I worked hard, and couldn’t make it work. I failed. I was a failure.

But if failure is being in the wrong place, then success is being in the right place, and I’m hot on its trail. Most days, I’m happy to report that I set out with optimism, reminding myself of all the skills I possess, all the possibilities I know in front of me. And most days I can quiet the new, mean voice in the back of my head that whispers, and you might fail at this, too.

Most days.

-Callie