Have you ever heard of atychiphobia? It’s an extreme and irrational fear of failure that can clash with your daily life, preventing you from taking risks or causing you to delay tasks that you feel will result in defeat. Some classify it as a non-diagnosed anxiety disorder. I considered this terror to be one of my greatest challenges, which I noticed more in-depth during my early twenties.

The idea of failing was a frequent, crushing force I could not shake. I measured the value of my existence against each stumble. If I failed or lagged behind others, didn’t that mean I was insignificant? It’s an illogical and relentless thought that always left me paralyzed. Fear ruled me. My movements became a desperate struggle to prove I mattered as much as anyone else, forcing me into a continual state of perfectionism with my importance hanging by a thread.

For me, accomplishments meant I carried purpose for everyone to see. Hence why I pushed myself far past rational limits, refusing to accept anything less than ideal.

This includes pursuing career choices with positive impacts, gaining financial stability, moving out on my own, and pursuing all the big life goals. I believed that success was my ticket to happiness, hoping that once everything was perfect for me, I would feel as if I belonged again.

As months passed, the shortcomings kept hitting harder. My supposed road to happiness crumbled beneath me. Instead of entering education with a mind for security, I pursued my passion for literature. Every day, the unknown glared at me. Painfully, I watched my treasured ambitions slip away, powerless to grasp them again. 

I felt my drive unravel, replaced by a wave of cognitive exhaustion that left me unable to move from my bed. That was my first taste of true defeat. Disappointment possessed me. Everywhere I turned, faces filled with worry flashed in my mind. Their silent questions pressed on me, especially when I chose a creative path. I continue to question my choice to abandon my safe plan—haunted by others succeeding while I falter.

Despite the letdown and uncertainty that followed, I felt more in tune with myself than before. Rather than depending on tunnel vision, I expanded my view past what was classified as “safe” and began learning how to follow what calls to my heart. 

These debacles encouraged me to embrace the unknown I worried about, despite it not going away entirely, while learning to cope with it.

Each moment pushed me towards intense self-reflection, forcing me to come face-to-face with the woman I’ve become. Rather than being stuck in an unfulfilling career I hated, I’m now taking risks and making choices that benefit me further in the long run.

Taking that step and rethinking how I viewed failure as a whole ultimately became the best thing to happen to me. I was able to embrace these shortcomings instead of instantly assuming they meant I was falling behind. It helped me grow and learn the importance of grounding myself, especially when it felt like everything was closing in. 

I still don’t have flawless control over these insecurities, nor have I been able to stop them from impacting my mental health. However, this shift in perception has allowed progress, bringing me closer to happiness. It empowered me to take the first step towards being my authentic, unapologetic self, using my blunders to evolve rather than define my purpose in this world. As humans, we believe a lack of victory results in misery, often pushing ourselves to reach the opposite in order to avoid that emotional pain.

Yet in reality, how are we to reach true success without those disastrous results? We need those screwups to influence growth, inspiring us to push ourselves in the right direction without sacrificing our peace.

Embracing these mistakes is the solution towards living life to its fullest, a valued lesson I will continue to learn and practice as I grow and experience fresh frustrations. It won’t be easy, but I’ll get the hang of it before I know it.

Editor: Shannon Hensley