Hello from the front tables at La Malbec,
This a somewhat quiet Saturday evening (with the exception of wannabe Fast and Furious cars or Harleys that need to prove they have customized their exhaust), and I am sitting almost exactly in the same place I first experienced La Malbec. It is only me alone rather than about 10 other people, but I am certainly glad that Roxana’s hope and concept for an upscale dining option in Bloomsburg has thrived. Certainly, there have been moments, but her vision for what might work here in Bloomsburg and beyond was accurate.
I sit here, both inside and out, at times with my computer, working while I dine, enjoy a beverage, or simply a snack (of sorts). I will always remember that first night colleagues, an incredible doctor, who later did some surgery on me, and my meeting of the owner and her husband and how the evening progressed. It was the beginning of what has become a gift in my life, both because of my appreciation for food and wine, but more significantly because of the incredible goodness of two people and extended family. What an expected gift. As noted, I sometimes find family outside of family. That does not make my own family less important, as demonstrated by my choices over the next months. However, I have been blessed beyond measure by the incredible people and cultures that have crossed my path since I first left my NW Iowa upbringing. As reflection seems central to my daily existence, surely prompted by retirement, I find myself appreciating small things that can often be overlooked, often unappreciated for their importance.
When I arrived in Bloomsburg mid-August of 2009, I was struggling more than many believed. I was leaving behind a woman in her 80s I had promised to care for. I had an incredible person living in the carriage house who meant more to me than I could figure out, and I had just experienced a failure of sorts as I hope to become a tenured professor. My former and now present colleague (and eventual chair and younger brother of sorts) would shepherd me through my new position, and his collegiality and friendship are paramount to where I am today. He is also never hesitant to tell me that he encouraged my application because it was a professionally helpful thing for the department. I actually admire that from him. As I move rapidly toward the completion of my professional life, I believe the thing that has changed is my willingness to be honest about my weaknesses. I actually told Dr. Daniel Riordan that was the most important thing I learned at Stout. I had learned to be comfortable with those aspects of myself that were not so wonderful, so capable, so admirable. It is not something I could have imagined earlier in life, which is the consequence of experiences, expectations, and my own frailty.
Weakness is something exploited, something perceived as a flaw, something to be hidden from view. I believe much of our current world discord occurs for this very reason. We all know the clichés that prop of these very practices. However, at what cost? The cost is honesty; the cost is opportunity; the cost creates a lack of possibility. If we are not allowed to have weaknesses, we inadvertently argue for perfection, which is unattainable. Too often we find others, or we even do it to ourselves, asking why something is not better. I remember not being satisfied with an A, but asking why it was not a better A. The number of times students ask what do I need to do to get that A means that the only thing that really counts is the grade. What about the learning that occurs. Education is not about letters it is about knowledge; it is about achieving, but doing something to the best of one’s ability. But even that is not a static thing, as what one does on a given day is dependent on a number of external factors that go way beyond how someone prepared. As importantly as realizing that we have become perfection-driven, it is as significant to understand how we got here. Perfectionism can paralyze someone . . . but from where does it originate? Some of it is mental, but some is experiential. Shaming is one of the main contributors to our desire for this unattainable standard. Consider this carefully. how many of us have been afraid to admit a grade, a score, the result of an interview or an interaction of some kind because we are ashamed? The inadequacy that we experience is a combination of both self esteem and what our experience has taught us. Being goal oriented, having a plan and self-expectation is not wrong, and there are a number of positive consequences of being such, but when does it go too far? This actually returns to my recent conversation about balance.
I have noted throughout the years of this blog how the expectation of a parent was many times detrimental to me. The words that told me I was not worthy of being in their house as an adopted person, that I would not amount to anything, the belittling that was a common occurrence affected my schooling throughout my growing up, it affected how I saw myself among my peers and classmates, and now, looking back, I believe it has affected how I understand intimacy and relationships, particularly with partners, throughout my life. In all of that, I realize how frail I am in certain ways. Some tell me that I am too honest or revealing at times in this blog, but the reason I write is two-fold. When I write about an issue I begin to understand and manage it more effectively. And just perhaps I have something someone else my find helpful. That might be the more important part of this platform, this space I have created over the past decade plus. Certainly it is not what I expected when I first wrote a post. In fact, I am working on some additional possibilities because of responses from many readers, and that has required, in part that I go back through what I have written (which is at times disconcerting) and ponder how to organize some of it. The frailty reality continues to plague me from time to time. I do believe I have made progress overall, that is for certain, but I know, for instance, when my chair sends an email asking me to call, my immediate reaction is what did I do?
And yet can this over-concern be a gift? I think there is another aspect to experiencing frailty, and then admitting it. It pushes away any need to be perfect, and additionally, it encourages compassion and empathy. Compassion and empathy seem to be something our current world is lacking. The discord, the lack of decorum, the unwillingness to imagine the possibility of the other removes the chance that we can find common ground. This is something that happens across the gamut of our human interactions, one on one to what underlies the incredible deadly situations in both Central Europe or Israel and Gaza. As I have noted, having written a dissertation on Bonhoeffer as well as experiencing Dachau, Buchenwald, and Auschwitz, I am well acquainted with why Israel has developed what they have to ensure their existence. And again, to be honest, while I have some basic understanding of the Palestinian issues, from self determination to a two-state solution, the various militant groups and their existence in Gaza, Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, and beyond, I cannot find a way that justifies the number of civilian casualties in Rafah or Gaza in general. A lack of compassion and empathy for the other seems to be a principle part of this issue. Total destruction of the other is not logical. IT has not worked in the past, and I do not think it will in our current situation.
Our human frailty and its reality have been apparent to me on another level this past week. One of my undergraduate classmates lost her sister, and the loss of a sibling is always stunning. It is difficult when someone you have known every minute of your life leaves this world. I remember when my older brother passed at 26. It was the first time I ever saw my father cry, and I was in my twenties. That was a life-altering moment for me. And then a student I had in classes at UW-Stout, a friend on FB, but not one I am regularly in touch with, in spite of a significant closeness at one point, would be approaching the end of a decade, one of those I am ____ for the fifth time birthdays. So I thought it would be great to reach out. His wife, who I know, but have not met, wrote back to me on FB messenger. He had passed away in January in his late 30s of esophageal cancer. In the 12+ hours since I spoke with her, I cannot get this out of my head. We had ridden motorcycles together. He had done an internship at Harley at one point, and I had given them suggestions for their honeymoon in Ireland. What a gut-punch. We simply go on, and there are so many things that are happening to those who we once crossed paths with, those we saw on a daily basis, but then we move, we change, and we lose track. There is that perfectionism rearing its head. While I can realize I do not keep up with 9,000+ students, nor can I, moments like last evening are heart-wrenching. And yet, his wife was gracious and we had a chance to catch up and there will be more conversations. I am feeling a bit frail this morning, but that frailty is about care and compassion. I am glad I have those qualities.
Thank you as always for reading.
Dr. Martin
thewritingprofessor55 
Good Afternoon Dr. Martin,
I found your statement about finding family outside of family to be moving and beautiful. I do not have a great relationship with my biological family but have found wonderful friends who are like my family to me.
Weakness is certainly something that some people take advantage of and use to benefit themselves and manipulate the person experiencing and exhibiting that weakness. I do not think there is anyone in the world without flaws or weaknesses. We’re all human and in being human, none of us are perfect.
The loss of someone so close, like a sibling must be detrimental to the person. I am extremely close with my sister it is hard for me to imagine.
Good evening from my living room.
I can associate deeply with the family outside of the family aspect as well as the need to chase perfection. Throughout my life, what I like to call my adopted family has grown and the binds that I share with that adopted family mean very much to me. Whether it is people older than me who I look at as aunts and uncles or grandparents. To my the people that I have developed almost sibling-like relationships with.
It is those people that I see as my adopted family as well as my biological family that have helped me develop. Through thick and thin, failure and success. It is one of my greatest internal battles to chase that perfection. Whether it is because I don’t see myself performing to the caliber I believe I should or because I am comparing myself and my situation to others who I feel are doing better than myself. However, I have found that like what was mentioned in your last post there is a need for balance between becoming complacent and using failure and others around you as motivation to improve yourself. I feel that accepting failure for what is, a learning experience is crucial to improving yourself, but you must not become complacent with failing and need to use your failures as a teaching moment to push you into success.
Once that is understood than the other side of the sword is to recognize your own accomplishments. Which is the part that I struggle with the most. It never feels like I have done enough. Or I don’t see the success that I had. To use the example of grades there have been classes that I didn’t end with an A but I was still successful because I had developed a knowledge base that I did not previously have.
Over all I think this was an interesting topic to think about, and enjoyed reflecting on it as I read and wrote this response. As always thank you for sharing your thoughts and views and I enjoyed reading!
Happy late evening on this Sunday night. I am currently writing from my apartment living room while watching my boyfriend my one of our favorite video games. It has been a pretty good day today. I got to help my boyfriend’s dad do yard work around the house, relax and take a nice nap, then went to a birthday party. Here I am now doing my nightly ritual now, which is writing a blog post to help me wind down for the night.
I used to think that showing weakness was a bad thing and made you vulnerable. As I have grown and matured, I see it as a sign of strength because it takes courage and openness to reveal your weaknesses, fears, thoughts, and opinions with those around you. In recent years, I have become more open with people and realized how much better I feel by revealing my weaknesses to people because they are able to help me work through them and make me a better person. It is still hard to show my weaknesses because I am not perfect, but I am still actively making an effort every day to be open and be okay with showing my weaknesses.
You noted that writing helps you to process situations you are actively trying to work through. By doing these blog posts, I have come to realize the same thing goes for me. I find that writing helps me to organize my thoughts and ideas. It also helps to quiet my mind, which tends to overthink a lot, especially at night when I am laying in bed. I am usually the kind of person that is a good writer, but hates to do writing. I believe that is because I dislike writing assignments because they usually involve topics I have no interest in. By doing these blog posts and doing a little reflection on your post and myself, it has helped me to enjoy writing. I mentioned this in one of my previous comments, but doing my blog reflections at night is persuading me to start journaling at night. Maybe I’ll start, maybe I won’t, but I do believe it would be a good thing for me to start doing. I’ll give an update in my next post on if I purchased one or not. Until next time 🙂
Amanda,
Thank you for your response, and as importantly, for your thoughts. I am honored that the reading of my work resonates with you, and that your work at the end of the day with it offers some sense of solace and relief. I think you demonstrate a strong sense of direction and purpose, and I appreciate that more than you know. While I have met a number of talented and capable students, too often they are content to merely do enough to get by. When I was 16, I was pretty lazy. My father, who was a journeyman electrician and brilliant and wise, walked up to me as I was lounging on the couch. He looked at me and said, “Anyone can be average, that’s why it is.” And he walked away. I was not impressed at the time, but I learned how wise that was.
What people do not realize about the relevance and helpfulness of writing is really quite basic. Thinking requires words, and critical thinking requires more thoughtful words. Thinking systematically and sequentially is what happens in analysis, and again it requires words. If you get the words out and look at them, there is reflection. Wisdom is the fruit of reflection (as the backside of Ben Franklin has written above the door.
Thank you again for your thoughts.
Dr. Martin
Dr. Martin –
I know that we are supposed to find blog posts that do not yet have comments on them, but I related to this post to a level in which I consider it a necessity to respond. First and foremost, I am very sorry for your loss. Throughout my life, I have learned that your current closeness to someone does not lessen the hurt of losing them. When I was in high school, a friend of mine committed suicide. We were not close at the time of his death, but he was my best friend throughout middle school. I held on to the pain of losing him for years. I was overcome with regret for allowing our friendship to deteriorate. If this is something that you are feeling, I am deeply sorry. I do not have any words that can ease the loss of losing someone, but I understand that pain.
I always appreciate the honest and raw nature of your posts. You mentioned that compassion and empathy are severely lacking in the world. I think the lack of these features has led to the lack of realness and transparency. Reading your posts and realizing that you are being authentically you is a refreshing change from the fakeness of the real world and social media.
In response to your exposed vulnerability, I would like to share a story with you. “If we are not allowed to have weaknesses, we inadvertently argue for perfection, which is unattainable.” This sentence in your post resonated with me. When I worked for the Lancaster County Office of the Coroner, being emotionally impacted by a death scene we responded to was frowned upon. We were expected to be stoic and resilient to the things we saw. I then started with Lower Paxton and had assumed that this same expectation would be in place. I did not have any issues until I responded to the scene of a child death. The infant was a few months old and was beyond help when paramedics arrived. Due to the nature of the incident, I am unable to provide more details. About 4 days after the scene, I broke down. I felt anger and grief for the loss of this infant that I had never known. What made the emotional impact worse was my unwillingness to show weakness. I was convinced that allowing myself to feel any emotion towards this scene meant that I was weak and unable to do my job.
I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to be able to compartmentalize to a point where I never had to feel those feelings. I cried for a week. I still get upset when I think about that baby. I can picture the room, the infant, the scene. I can put myself back there as though it was yesterday. Through that experience, I learned that weakness is not the enemy. I did my job effectively and to the high standard that the department expected. I then allowed myself to be weak and feel the emotions that I had suppressed.
The world perceives weakness and emotion as faults. I view them as strengths. I never want to be in a position where the death of an infant does not impact me in some way. Humans are held to non-human standards. It is infuriating.
I know I focused on only one part of your post. I did that because I related to it so strongly and I wanted to meet your transparency and vulnerability with an equally transparent and vulnerable response.
As always, thank you for sharing your thoughts.
Shannon
Dr. Martin,
Your reflection deeply resonates with me. La Malbec is more than just a restaurant; it’s a symbol of resilience and community, reminding me how dreams can create meaningful connections.
Your journey since arriving in Bloomsburg highlights the importance of supportive relationships. The guidance from your colleagues, especially your “younger brother of sorts,” shows the impact of compassionate mentorship. This mirrors my own experiences of finding unexpected support.
Your honesty about struggles and embracing weaknesses is powerful, emphasizing self-acceptance and vulnerability. It resonates with my journey of self-discovery.
Your thoughts on perfectionism and its pressures are relatable. Recognizing the need to focus on growth rather than unattainable standards is valuable.
Reflecting on upbringing and parental expectations, your writing made me consider how these shape self-perception and relationships. Your honesty offers comfort to those facing similar challenges.
Embracing frailty to cultivate empathy and compassion is a timely message. Your writing underscores the importance of these qualities in resolving conflicts and building connections.
The losses you mention remind me of life’s fragility and the importance of cherishing connections.
Overall, your writing encourages embracing frailties and finding strength in connections, highlighting our shared humanity in understanding and supporting each other.
Hello from my living room,
While reading this blog, gave me insight about another person’s personal life, you Professor Martin. I am very interested and wanted to reply to this blog because I heavily relate to the majority of this blog and gave me a heart-wrenching feeling. I think me and you are no different, and I believe also frailty is not a weakness; its a way to keep are emotions regulated to any situation and teaches us to learn about ourselves. As a kid, I had a similar experience you had like trying to be perfectionist, always thinking what others think, and scared to even start the things that I wanted to do. It was difficult growing up having this mind-set, but I think I have grown out of it as I entered my second year of college. I had to start taking risks and doing things I was not comfortable doing because I would have never gotten out of my comfort zone. In the end on this semester, I made unforgettable friends and experiences, which I will will cherish forever. It was a turning point in my life and talking about it right now gives me a sense of relief because I have gotten this far and there is a good future ahead of me if I keep on trying. The friends I have made along the way help me, and I help them… It’s miracle I found these people because they are the people that shaped me the way I am today, and I appreciate them a lot.
I am sorry about your losses. You writing about these people already tells me they were very important to you. It heart-breaking that experiences like this has to happen, but you cannot fix the outcome of what is to come. In 2015, I have meet this sweet boy on a video game, who I loved playing with because we had so many similar interests. I did not know much about him, and of course we kept in touch until around 2018 where we both got busy with our lives. Since then until 2022, one of my online friends had told me he had passed away, and I was not believing it. I just regret not keeping in touch because he really needed it at the time. I realized some people need to be checked up on, even if is a single message or call because that can make a huge difference.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts Professor Martin. This is the first time I am replying to someone’s blog and I really think makes a difference. It clears your head from running thoughts and is a stress reliever in the end. Even though this class is only 4 weeks long, I believe it has many positive aspects and gives us the time to organize our thoughts.
Dr. Martin,
I found the way you conceptualize fragility very humanizing. As of recently, I have been very reflective over recent events of my life and in that, I have found much shame and guilt. My response has been to hide myself away from the world and be afraid of it. Reading this post has allowed the idea of “What good things can I find within this moment of vulnerability?” to circulate in my brain. To find strength in a time of suffering is very difficult for me. This post as allowed many new perspectives for me, thank you for sharing.
Hello Dr. Martin,
I hope you are having a fine Friday. I have grown quite fond of responding to your blog posts. Each one always has a new piece of insight that I find valuable to take on for the future of my life. I wanted to make sure to respond to the most recent post, as I like to read what new advise you have to offer.
In this post, there was a lot of different themes to be taken away. I especially loved your view on weakness. Each of us have insecurities about ourselves, but your view allows for leniency. Although your view allows for leniency, it does not offer full forgiveness. I like this view a lot. The hardest part about finding this slim middle ground is finding balance between the two. Balance is always the hardest part of anything it seems.
I was especially touched by your former student that tragically passed away. Losing someone is never easy, and I can’t imagine how it feels when that news of loss is delayed. I have faced loss, but I have yet to grow to the age to lose track of friends. I do not doubt this will happen to me though. I already am not as close with a lot of my old high school friends. I am sure the same will happen to some of my college friends.
I hope you have a great weekend, and look forward to responding to a post tomorrow.
Bryce
Dr. Martin,
Good evening. I am outside listening to music in my backyard by a fire. With my family carrying on in the background. My husband has no clue how I manage school and everything else I do. I truly don’t either. I am not the best at the balancing act you mentioned. It is better some days than others. I unfortunately strive for perfection. I have become better at it since I have started college a few years ago. I have been a disappointment one too many times to others – especially my father. I do not care what he thinks at this point in my life. He can kiss my ass for all I care. But that still doesn’t take away the way he treated me all those years. His famous words to us kids was, “let’s went.” Which is his mind was we should have already had it done. Whatever the chore might have been whether it cutting firewood or finishing up canning. It was never good enough and he always promised to do things with us and decided to drink with his buddies. We were just an inconvenience and proving our worth was, and is unattainable. I have came to find a sense of solace with that chapter of my life. Again, no where near perfect but good enough for me. I love him and I always will, but I will not miss him. He is a miserable and hurtful specimen of a human being.
I have battled in my mind similar the way you have. It is not easy and it can consume you for days. I am a worrier and stress more than I want to. I don’t stop and smell the roses as much as I’d love too. I can empathize with you on all of your words from this. I admire how open and free you are to us who read these. I think it is great and not people open up the way you do. I feel I have got better at it over the years. Then again I wonder if I open my thoughts and bear my soul too much. I have been as transparent and open with my children as they are becoming young adults. I feel too many our blindsided by life and are lost and afraid when they officially leave the nest. I am a prepper with everything. As I go through a rough patch with my oldest I feel myself pulling back. I feel I said too much and was too harsh. I was to real with her and maybe I could have held her more and loved her better. My heart is broken and lost in the failure I have created in her wake. She is thriving now that she is on her own path while living with her dad. Words were said and they always hurt and last the most. I love her and I wish I did better. Is that perfection or unrealistic? I am honestly not sure. I hold my actions to the highest standard when being a mother. I will probably never forgive myself even if she decides to forgive me someday. Then again maybe I am being too hard on myself. I don’t want to believe that I am. Being a mother is hard if you are one who takes it seriously. I just hope she knows someday that I love her more than life itself. I do all my kids. I hope I can find peace and give myself the grace I know subconsciously I have earned in the rough trail I have been on all these years.
I am sorry for the loss. That is very young and a difficult cancer to come to terms with. I can even imagine how his wife and him absorbed the news. Those moments come and go quickly, but leave and everlasting sting on your mind and heart. A scar if you will, as a reminder that life isn’t infinite. Once again, I have to go. My youngest two want smores. Thank you again for a chance inside your view of this crazy world and your thoughts. It is a pleasure as always.
-Kellie
Good Afternoon! As I’m sitting in my living room alternating between resting and chores, I find I resonate with everyone’s ideals about balance. My current perspective of balance lies within self-discipline, knowing when to do and to not. As I work 80 hour weeks while balancing my sleep, writing, and practice schedule I starting to forgive myself when I learn from a mistake. As I have high ambitions for myself, I strive for the pressure of life. Whether that pressure be competitive or for my own education, investing time into my future is my biggest goal currently. I no longer strive for perfection but nowadays longevity. Life is a marathon filled with lots of obligations in my opinion. Being a mentor and a vocal coach, I have to prepare students for the bitterness of life, what to expect when the odds are against you. Through responsibility, self compassion, and self-discipline students have the potential to create opportunities their imagination couldn’t comprehend. I love teaching how to set small obtainable goals to myself, the thought of having a beautiful apartment at 23 years old and studying what I love through making responsible decisions is a blessing. As I remember being hard on myself, it’s beautiful how small steps can create so much change in a person.
I sympathize with your loss. People are irreplaceable, the memories we make with them are precious. Personally, I was the type of grandchild to visit my gramma every weekend. I know gramma as a word is typically unconventional, but it’s a work that keeps a uniqueness to our relationship. That woman taught me so much about myself, like how much I loved sitting outside by a creek listening to the water and watching the animals. When I think of my grandma, I’m reminded how our relationships can mold a person. I learned what calm was for me during a chaotic storm. Which helped me so much growing into the person I am and who I’m going to be.
Good afternoon from my office chair (where a 21-year-old should be elsewhere),
I think weakness is such an essential part of life, yet still we are looked down upon for feeling such a way. Especially the stigma around men and weakness. We are all allowed to feel weak, to admit to feeling weak, but it is what you do with that feeling that truly matters. You never have to settle for those inward demons – there is always light on the end of the tunnel.
I remember in my high school years a teacher who I hated. I absolutely despised this man, but looking back on him now, I see he truly wanted the best for me. He saw something in me that I didn’t see and wouldn’t see for years to come. Years that dare I say are out of my “prime.” On an assignment where we reviewed our grades in all of our classes from the previous week, I had a particularly low grade in my history class (it was a B). A subject I always struggled with. I vividly remember getting my paper back with feedback scribbled across it, and the words “This isn’t like you. Do better.” written next to my history grade block. Mr. Deal made a young, impressionable girl who was already going through the motions of not feeling good enough, spiral. I remember going home and having a breakdown to my parents about how nothing I did seemed to be good enough – after all, I was raised by the man that when I was excited about a 95% on a test, he would turn around and say, “Why isn’t it a 100?”
So yes, feeling weak is an essential part of living. I believe the fragility we feel is what makes us human. It provides substances in our lives, and truly is what sets us apart from others is how we turn these feelings around.
Regina
Whether it is intentional or not, I agree that weakness is often exploited and perceived as a flaw. I have experienced that personally when members of my family view weakness as such a flaw that they will do anything to cover their weakness, which typically leads to them lashing out at you because you are an extension of them. I have a relative with a lot of body issues and when I was a preteen and teenager, they would always criticize me for what I wore, how I ate, even how dirty I would get – from farming!! It was wild, but it took me a long time to recognize how messed up that was, and I still work to get rid of that voice in my head.
Another statement that really hits home for me is how perfectionism can be paralyzing. I definitely struggle with this, whether it is sending a text message or handing in an assignment. I have this need to respond perfectly, but never feel like I have the right words to say. This usually leads to me avoiding tasks because I feel like I can’t mess up, even on the draft. If I can’t get it right on the first try, I’ve failed.
I felt very seen when I read your comments on shaming. Logically, I understand shaming is one of the main contributors to my anxious need to be perfect. But once you are conditioned to only see the flaws, you can’t quiet the voices. My self-doubt is a big contributor and makes it hard to break the perfection-driven mindset. The self-shaming from family members echoes there as well. A lot of my perfectionism is driven by anxiety. I compare myself to my past self. Just get better. Be better.
I hope that I can learn to embrace my weaknesses because I agree that acknowledging your own frailty does lead to you having more compassion and empathy for others. For example, whenever I’m with a group of people, whether it is 3 or 50, I try to make sure everyone feels welcome. I know what it feels like to be in a room and feel unwelcome, and to have your mind tell you you’re not wanted. Even though I have anxiety, I go out of my way to make sure other people don’t feel the same way. I call myself an anti-social extrovert.
If you feel like you have to fit into a box, you start limiting yourself. I appreciate the vulnerability you show in these blog posts because it has created a safe space for myself and others to be able to share our own experiences.
-Kaitlyn
Hello Professor,
I write to you this time because, as often as I say it in these comments, and, as often as you say it in your office, I find myself relating to you. The fear of failure has often been a roadblock for me. It was the main contributor of many late submissions and many tearful nights. I, on the opposite end of the spectrum of life, have come to the realization that I truly know nothing of this world yet. In the past few weeks (since the end of the spring semester) I have been battling my mental state. I had failed in a few of my classes and I had no idea how I was going to own up to it. My parents were always very strict when it came to grades, and it never felt like I could do enough for them. If I got an A, it was expected. If it was a B, it was “why wasn’t this an A?” If it was a C, it was punishment for a month. For these reasons, I hardly ever opened up my grade portal in high school. That way, if my mom ever asked, I could just say “I think I’m doing fine” in all honesty.
This habit persists though, despite my mother and father not caring for grades (as much) anymore. So now, all I can believe is that it stems from my fear of failure. If I never look, then it can’t mean that I’m doing bad. However, as anyone can tell, just because you don’t look at something, doesn’t mean it’s not there.
Now, back the beginning. The reason why I bring up my age is that I have come to understand that I know little. Whether it be little things that have been revealed to me about my family or things about my past that I’m just putting together now, I realize that so many things go on that I physically haven’t even thought of before. With time and age come wisdom, and I haven’t had enough of either to truly be wise yet. So, back to the problem. While it is easy for me to say that I fear failure because I haven’t experienced it enough for it not to be a problem, what I should say is this. Instead of being scared to fail, I should be excited to fail so that I can become wiser. Now, how this plays out in real life, I’m not too sure yet. However, I should be excited to see how it does.
While rereading this response, I realized that it has little to do with the points you bring up in your post, but it is something that challenged me and got me to think. So, I hope you enjoyed reading. All the best.
Alex