(And, to be honest , a cage I never intended to be, or realised I was, trapped in…)
It’s been 32 years, 9 months and 11 days, give or take, that this post has been effectively waiting to be written. Long before I could walk, talk, type or scream at my computer in desperate frustration, the curse that is the fear of failure (and the more well-disguised fear of success) trap was lying in wait for me from day dot. I wonder if any of you feel that way too, sometimes? All the time? Subconsciously. Welcome to reply and let me know if so, would love to hear about your experiences.
Anyways… On with this first blog post/email newsletter attempt. I am a little disappointed in myself to be quoting someone else’s work so soon into a post, but hey, having people you look up to is how taking inspiration works. The next part is to act on that inspiration and do stuff. A lot of people never get there. It would be so easy to stay back, to lurk in the shadowy corners of your own life and gaslight yourself into believing that is fulfilling.
Rule 1 of Jordan Peterson’s 12 Rules for Life is to “Stand up straight with your shoulders back”. I thought I found that easy. Something that I’ve also much more recently found out on my journey of self-awareness and self-discovery is that it’s also VERY. EASY. for me to engage in the subtle art of lying to myself and believing it completely. It’s almost laughable, the extent to which I have bought into it at times. If you don’t laugh, you cry, isn’t that right?
Fear of Failure (and Success) as a Part of Identity
When you’re a bright kid, it puts a bit of a target on your back. But when you’re bright in combination with aloof and socially inept (due to, I’ve later found, severe ADHd and suspected low to moderate ASd) it leads to a sort of entitled arrogance that basically ensures that you’re definitely not gonna make a ton of friends at school… That was my life. It didn’t take long before I was coming home from school, my parents asking young, enthusiastic lil Sammy “How was your day?” and with a completely neutral expression I’d just say “Fine” and go to my room and lose myself in World of Warcraft because the homework could basically do itself. A digital, fictional reality where there was the defence of a screen and a world of physical distance between me and anyone else I was interacting with. An alternate universe where I could play a character. And lil me took that on a little too well. The mask became me, and I became the mask. Because it wasn’t safe to be otherwise.
When your identity becomes rooted in an illusion, and you come to believe it to be inseparable from the reality, it seems like you’re walking on water.
You’re untouchable - emotionally, at least. Every setback or “failure” can be attributed to an external factor, and your sense of self becomes literally bulletproof, locked away in its imaginary castle that once was a walled garden of self-protection, somewhere you can retreat to when the world gets too much where everything is rosy and smells of perfume and Moet Chandon. But one all too soon becomes a prison.
Stepping out into the Light (of working in “Public”)
Fear of failure became attached, unconsciously, to my identity. When everyone told me how smart I was, it very quickly led to wanting to protect that perception and “always be the smartest in the room”, to quote Hamilton. The sad and funny thing is that in hindsight, if you’re the smartest in the room you’re never learning or growing, trapped in a cage of your own ego. And that pseudo-perfectionism ends up becoming a fear of success in its own right. A lack of courage to be imperfect in public.
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What if I took that risk? What if I pulled it off?
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What if I asked that girl on a date?
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Why shouldn’t I start that business? If XYZ can do it… Why not me?
We all have dreams. I know I do, and I know you do reading this. Hopes, ambitions, passions, drives and desires, things we deeply believe the world needs and that our souls know we have to share vocally. Ideas we have to champion. Feelings we have to shout and sing from the rooftops. Injustices we must crusade against, wrongs we must right. It’s an intuitive compulsion, a quiet knowing that courage is called for.
But we also have fears. Nightmares that keep us awake at night (or would keep us awake, if we let ourselves feel them… I often haven’t had the bravery.)
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What if it fails?
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What if she says no?
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What if I go broke, can’t undo it, can’t make it right, and I lose my house/car/job/girlfriend/boyfriend/(anything & everything)?
The irony is, both the success and failure consequences can be overanalysed and rationalised literally until we are on death’s door. We can attempt to calculate every single “What if?” until we have as much certainty as possible. But why? Why would we do that?
Because the neurochemical hits of thinking, planning, iterating, plotting and scheming (the light and shadowy synonyms, think I’ve covered all bases there?) are just as real in the inner universes of our brains and hearts as the lived experience would be. And that, in itself, is what becomes the prison.
Over the last 12 years I have written SO MUCH that it’s not even funny. I have notebooks and notebooks in Evernote and Notion, half-finished blog posts, poems and short stories that have never seen the light of day beyond maybe being read to a person or two. I’ve even written a whole god-damn book that is gathering dust on my shelves in Adelaide somewhere. Or maybe it’s in a case in Sydney, right now I don’t even know.
How many of those has the world seen? Zero. Or very few.
Perfectionistic Paralysis and Why I’m Writing This
Arguably, this section should probably be at the top of this “post”/email. Maybe I’ll move it up there before I send it… Maybe not. Maybe I’ll just add a post-hoc TL;DR for the normies who don’t write essays to their friends. If you’ve got this far, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading this neurodivergent brain dump 🙏
The cage of fear of failure & fear of success combined has damn near ruined my life on more than one occasion. It’s what caused me to bomb out of the Navy. It’s what’s caused me to run away from almost every good relationship and professional opportunity I’ve had, or unconsciously blow them up, simply to avoid looking in the mirror and taking ownership and accountability for my own failings as an evolving and growing human. And in doing so, hamstrung my own growth at every turn.
But those same flaws and failings as a human are the things that make the story all the more compelling, all of its messy, authentic, beautiful humanity. My ex (??) partner KJ has asked me time and time again to “Open up the mess”, “Air the shame”, “Be real”… I found it so hard, for such a long time, and I had no idea why. Because I didn’t want it to be. And it’s cost me so much that I am writing this with the intention of maybe, possibly helping one person to not have to go through the same thing.
I read a quote that I think was from Diego Perez (better known as Yung Pueblo)’s Instagram the other week, but I may be mis-attributing it… Knowing the conventional social media algorithms to some degree after my years as a fitness coach, I am well aware that most of it is repurposing other people’s work. But here it is:
I’m a 12-year-old adult, by that post’s estimations. And I feel like that is true, too… I’m 32, jobless for coming up 3 months now, dilettantish by nature and my curiosities are pulling me in a thousand directions. No wonder it’s hard to just choose one and stick to it.
But here’s todays decision. Sending this email to you lucky few who have deigned to share your email addresses with me. Thank you for your trust and your attention. If this resonates, please send it on to someone who you think may be interested, or direct them to https://samue.lk to have a lil read of the (admittedly very few) updates and posts that are currently there, but this is my commitment to you that there will be more to come, very soon. I’ve basked in glorious anonymity for too long, so it’s time to create some more “stuff” in the world of the type that I’d like myself to see.
Sam xx