Lately, I found myself thinking whether or not I will ever love again, or, better yet, allow myself to fall in love again. I have wondered, for the longest time, what it is that ultimately causes me to dismiss the idea of falling in love and committing in a serious relationship. At first, I thought that maybe I’m bitter, or that I have not move on, or maybe I just haven’t found someone who’s made me want to give it a try again. But it’s not until recently that the answer to my question has dawned on me, presented itself to me in the most obvious form, an innate nature and character in me, that it definitely should not have come off as a surprise: my fear of failure.
Anyone who knows me can very well attest just to how competitive I am, even in the smallest of things. I am not used to failing, and I certainly do not like failing. Now it might come off as being cocky, but I’m just the type of person who likes to be good–or if I’m honest, exceptional–at what I do. And that characteristic translates not just in my workplace, or in school, but seemingly, in my personal relationships as well.
I realized that I have attributed a relationship that did not work as a personal failure–I have put in work, put in effort, invested my time, resources, and most importantly, myself, in something, in someone, and yet, I failed. I have always thought that when I put my mind into something, then I can do it, no matter how difficult it is. But the fact that it did not put a dent on that confidence, and in its place, my fear of failure was instilled, embedded, and over time, nestled and made a niche in me, that is my dismissive nature.
This picture was taken a year ago, when all that confidence was crumbling, yet on the outside, I tried my hardest to appear as if I was unaffected, like I have no care whatsoever, dismissing the very fact that despite my best efforts, I have failed. It’s refreshing to be able to look back on those times and see just how far I’ve come: from a broken spirited girl hiding behind a facade of a seemingly put-together person to the me now, who, I’d like to believe, is actually a little better put-together; the me who’s come to terms with her limitations, failures, inabilities, and believe it or not, some insecurities, and, who hopes that one day, when that fear of failure goes away, I will be able to tell myself, “you did, after all.”