Try Again, Love.
Tell Perfection to Have a Seat…
“I’ve missed more than 9,000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. Twenty-six times, I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.” — Michael Jordan
Sitting at my desk today, preparing to meet with one of my consultation groups, it struck me: Oh my God — I have led more than a dozen groups. I actually don’t know the exact number. But just a couple of years ago, I tried for the first time — and two people signed up. I canceled it. I tried again with a close friend — and no one signed up. I tried again alone — no one signed up. And then I rested for a while, knowing it wasn’t personal. Knowing that everything in life is cyclical. Knowing that if I didn’t give up, I would one day be able to show up in front of a group. And each time, I get better. I think of new ideas. I listen to what participants want. I build new relationships. I get new opportunities that I wouldn’t have gotten if I had given up.
Today, people contact me to be added to my waitlist. People are willing to wait on me to have space. I do not say this to brag. I am saying this to the parts of me what would NOT believe that I get to wake up everyday and do work that I love and meet the most kind, beautiful, intelligent, gifted people. I am saying this to me to remind me of who I am and what happens when I do not give up.
When I am speaking at a conference or to a clinical supervision group and I tell people, “I do not have perfectionistic parts” — it’s true. I do not have a perfect bone within me. I’ve gotten to this point in my life because I am always willing to fail— if I can learn something or get to the place I want to get to one day. I am always willing to learn, to walk away, to cry my eyes out for days, weeks, months — to complain, to manifest, to talk about how the failure hurt me or embarrassed me — and then refill my emotional cup and try again. I’ve failed so many times in my life. I mean really— so many.
I’ve failed at school, at work. I’ve had failed friendships and marriages. I’ve failed at being a plant parent. I’ve failed at learning to drive a stick shift. I’ve failed at stopping a number of bad habits. And I am at peace with myself and my efforts. I cannot imagine not trying. When I am attempting something and my body feels the fear of failure or of outward criticism, this quote often comes to mind — and although the man was racist, I find his words can be applied to so many things in life:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” — Theodore Roosevelt
So today, I am preparing to meet with my group, and I marvel at all the communities I create. My younger Tasha would be in disbelief at how much I am doing — things that used to scare me terribly. All throughout my childhood I felt like a failure. I failed at school, and I was failed by the adults in my life. I didn’t see a positive future for myself. And yet here I am — doing them imperfectly, and learning. I’m genuinely trying my best to be better.
And trying doesn’t stop. Every time I think I’ve found my way, life hands me a new journey. Which is exactly why I am building up the courage to start something else new — a YouTube channel. I find that I miss hosting my own podcast, but I want something a little different. The channel is called Therapy, Truth, and Tenderness — subscribe if the sound of that lands softly in your system. I wanted an additional space to talk about mental health topics, and I’ll also be reading poetry and children’s books — for adults like me who never had anyone read to them. A soft nervous system reset. I think it’s a pretty cool idea.
Anyway, I hope that whatever you are doing, you keep trying. Tell perfection to have a seat while you try. Trying won’t kill you, and it won’t be the end of you. Don’t let failure be the end of you. Let it be the beginning of an perfectly imperfect you.
And before you close this tab — I want to invite you back to something you’ve been afraid to try. A hobby you abandoned. A business idea sitting in your notes app. A new recipe. An attempt at meeting someone new. Whatever it is, give it one more try. And then come back here and tell me about it. In the comments, share something you’ve tried recently that scared you. I want to celebrate you in that arena — dust, sweat, and all.
Love you much.
If this piece moved you but a paid subscription doesn’t fit your life right now, I honor that. If you’d like to support my writing—or this specific post—you can do so here: buymeacoffee.com/tashahunter. To learn more about my work or to register for an upcoming opportunity visit, www.tashahunterlcsw.com.
Love your writing and would love to subscribe to the podcast but couldn't find it on youtube...
This is what learning is made of :-).