I own a magnet that says, "Always make new mistakes." I thought it was a profound statement in the middle of Barnes & Noble, so I bought it. The problem with my own mindset at the time was...I really didn't want to allow myself to make any mistakes...AT ALL.
See, I want to do everything right, the first time around. I don't want to make mistakes. I don't usually struggle with owning up to the mistakes I've made. As I've been told, "I'm sorry" is probably my most common phrase in all of my vocabulary. Arguably, I apologize for things I shouldn't apologize for (which is another problem entirely that I also struggle with). However, I hate mistakes. More accurately, I hate failing. I loathe failing. Fear of failure has paralyzed me throughout my life. Let me give an example:
At about the age of 10, I ruined jello. Not only did the pot of gelatin overflow, but I put ice cubes in it to cool it faster and it turned into a lake. I was mortified. Now, this is obviously an age of culinary excellence (note the sarcasm), so obviously this shouldn't define my life. But it did. I was PETRIFIED of cooking. I swore to everyone who knew me, I couldn't cook. An ice cube has a better chance in hell than I had of being a good cook. Seriously. It was that serious to me. I'd taken one itty bitty failure in my elementary years and had it change my life. Even looking at that phrasing now, it looks absolutely absurd. But rather than taking that failure and having it fuel a fire to try again, I just gave up. It was easier at that point to give up than to potentially try again and fail yet again. What if I just kept failing? You know what, in my mind, it wasn't worth the risk of failing again. I'll just quit. So I did...for over 15 years.
It wasn't until I dated a chef, who pressed me as to why I didn't attempt to cook, that I had to give my embarrassing answer. I'd ruined jello, therefore, I can't cook. To say the least, he looked at me like I was crazy. He just said, "Look, I'm coming over for dinner and I'm not cooking. Find a recipe and just try it, let's see what happens." I'm not kidding you, my heart jumped in my throat and I started shaking I was so nervous. I found a cookbook I had (now, why I had a cookbook as a person who as scared to death of cooking is still beyond me). I looked up what ended up being a simpler version of chicken paella, and thought I'd enjoyed paella in Spain so maybe that would give me some extra motivation. What I didn't realize was paella requires saffron. Saffron is a spice with very specific instructions in order to use it correctly. I didn't know that until I asked the lady at the store, telling her I'd never cooked before and I needed to find saffron in the store. The lady looked at me with a very surprised look. She said, "Saffron? For your first time cooking? You're brave." She got me to the section, told me how to steep it correctly and I went home realizing I may have bitten off more than I could chew. But guess what? My high end chef boyfriend was amazed. He said, "You have cooked both the chicken and the rice perfectly! That's so hard, you don't even know! How have you believed all this time that you couldn't cook?" I told him, "Well, I just followed the recipe." He said, "But that's how it starts! You'll get used to it and start getting creative. You need to continue trying."
That encounter changed my life and my view of myself. All of a sudden, I'd realized how much I had let me fear take over to the point of insanity. I wouldn't try something because I'd already failed once. So that failure, therefore, must define me. I still struggle to this day with this. I haven't conquered it. But it took one person challenging me and not letting me duck out that changed the trajectory of my life and thought process about myself.
So not only do I have a fear of failure, but it's compounded by a natural inclination toward perfectionism. Not only do I want to do things right, but I want them done right the FIRST time. Whenever I fail the first time around, I get really angry and self-shaming. I think, "You should've done this, or you should've done that..." It's probably some of that "first born"-ness in me. Super responsible to the point of absurdity. This is absolutely ridiculous. Not to mention, unrealistic! I wouldn't ever want my kids thinking that way about themselves, to be honest. I would want them to realize that mistakes are part of life, failure is part of life, and we must learn from our mistakes and recalibrate for the future! Have you ever thought that? "If someone else thought the way that I think, I'd be like, 'You're crazy! Stop it!.'" I do that a fair amount.
These two things, fear of failure and perfectionism, are absolutely paralyzing as a combination. They've stopped me from growing, from trying new things, from getting up and dusting myself off and so much more. I don't know what opportunities I've missed in life because I'm afraid to try and fail. It can be small things, like my husband wants me to try rock climbing. Instead of saying, "Oh, that'd be fun, let's try it!" My first thought is, "I'm not strong enough. I can't do it. I'll probably fail at it." It can range from small things like that to much bigger things like being afraid to make mistakes in reference to my kids' discipline. "What if I do it wrong? What if I make them bitter toward me via discipline? What if I don't discipline them enough and then they think anything goes? What if I fail as their life coach/parent?" It paralyzes me in moments that are key learning moments because I'm so afraid of failing them.
Because of my natural inclinations toward these two things, it is so, so, so hard to see that mistakes are okay. It's so hard to give myself grace, and realize that part of relationship with my kids is actually the forgiveness wronged. I'm human. I make mistakes. I hit roadblocks and stunted growth. I have highs and lows. It's all part of life. My fear of failure and simultaneous perfectionism are crippling at times. They can rule my life, if I let them. But the Lord has sent me just the right people at just the right times in my life to help me grow out of my fear that keeps me cowering in a corner and out into the light of new possibilities.
I'm now married to a man who's taught me a lot about not giving up. It's brought me to a whole new level personally. The biggest learning curve of my life has been in wanting to get healthy and get stronger. He has seen me as I continue this journey. For those of you who have been following my journey with all its ups and downs, I started at Christmas with a huge kick in the pants for me personally. I went to have my yearly check up. Not only had I had 3 babies in two years, but that entire year up until last Christmas was one of the craziest of my life. Needless to say, I ate to cope. I went into the doctor and for the first time in my life, I was over 200 lbs. My first temptation was to go back to my fear of failure mindset, "Nothing's every going to change. I might as well give up. My life is too stressful and I can't handle it." Then, there was a little tap on my heart. The Lord inclined my heart...something needed to change.
I told Jason and he started to work out with me every morning from M-F with simple workout videos from YouTube before the kids got up in the morning. He didn't pressure me. He just wanted to support me once I made the decision to change...he'd never even hinted that I was fat or ugly to him, in fact, it was always the opposite. But he let me decide. On top of working out, we did the Paleo diet during the week, and ate whatever we wanted on the weekends. This worked well for my "fear of failure" mindset. I have a sweet tooth. If deprived for a long time, I was afraid I'd binge and be tempted to give up again. So I remained consistent during the week, and the weekends had some more flexibility. But my journey was a big dip at the beginning at got stuck for a month at 185. 185 had been my consistent weight for several years. I felt my fear of failure creep up. It told me, "There's no change in one, two, three, four weeks. You might as well just give up. There's no use." But my husband came alongside of me and basically told me, "Yeah, you could do that, you could give up. But if you keep pushing, you'll see change. You just have to wait sometimes, but it will come." It kept me going.
Then I watched the show STRONG on TV. I'd been so weight-obsessed before that point, that the scale was what got me down. Yes, I knew in my head that the scale doesn't tell the whole story. But I'm a person of measurement. I LIKE numbers, I like goals, I like tangibility. But I watch these women, a couple of them in particular, and talking about, "I've never felt this strong before. I didn't even know I could be strong at all. I'm just a mom." It was the kick in the pants I needed then and I wanted to be strong like them. So instead of weight, I made strength the goal. It changed everything again. The temptation was there to give up, it's always present, but now the pull isn't as strong. I believe the reason is because I fought the voice, day after day, I didn't want to give in. I wanted to refuse to give in.
The other thing, though, was that I did give in at times. I ate things I shouldn't have. I didn't do all the workouts or walks with the kids I wanted to do. But I realized that the self-shaming was not only not motivating at ALL, but rather it did the opposite! I was so hard on myself, "Oh, you gave in, well, you're going to give in eventually, so you might as well just give up now and keep eating and never go on walks." Shame didn't motivate me past my fear of failure. Shame is a TERRIBLE motivator. So, the Lord reminded me, "Is that how you think I see you? Do you think I shake my finger at you and make you cower in a corner in guilt and shame? NO! I want to pick you up (maybe some discipline involved) and keep moving ahead. I don't want you to be paralyzed. I want you to keep moving." I saw God's love for me with new eyes when I had this realization. He saw the brutal truth of who I was, but graciously picks me up and moves me forward to be more like Him. I started to show myself some of the grace Jesus was showing me. "Oops, you made a mistake. Well, why not try to get a few extra kettlebell swings in? Or why not be a little more strict with yourself during the weekend? Or what if you accept the mistake and move on in your normal pattern just noting the mistake?"
I'm telling you, those three things have taught me so much: Jason's encouragement to get up and keep going, the desire to feel STRONG instead of small, and the grace to let go of mistakes made and move forward...it has helped the voices of fear of failure and my perfectionism become a lot quieter over these last months. I still had my failures, I struggled during our vacation times, during the time in California before Kari passed, and in other spots. Yes, I gained weight back...but I didn't let the weight gain define me anymore. I had this underlying confidence that: yes that happened, yes it's real life, yes things are messy (including getting stronger and healthier), but I will pick up the mantel when I get home and start over and put in the necessary work. I will not give up.
This journey has been 9 months in the making. I'm down to 174 as of this morning and plan to keep fighting to feel healthier and stronger. I'm starting to see the muscles in my arms again. I love the energy that comes with being healthy. It's a big motivation to keep going. But I also see my own improvements in the areas of strength as well (my 3 minute plank still rocks! :)). But there are days where I still eat things I shouldn't, or don't get my workouts in. But those days of failure define me a little less than the day before. The voice is still there. The perfectionism in my cringes when trying to do a pushup on the rings in our basement and my elbow buckles for some odd reason. But I don't want to give up. I don't want to live a life a fear and perfection that makes me miss out on things in life and relationships. So the voices are still there. They always will be. BUT they don't hold as much sway as they used to...and the only reason that is, is because I fight them every day, building up the muscles in my own mind and heart. The Lord has strengthened my resolve in the battle. It's not easy. It never has been easy for me. But I've learned I'm a fighter. I've learned that fear and obsession with perfection in myself have been some of my most crippling characteristics. But God, in His grace, is showing me a new way. I don't have it all figured out, but I know He does, and I just desire to keep walking with Him.
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