Failure. What is it? Why do we as humans avoid it like the plague? We are mortified of failure. But I want to reframe that word. Failure, in certain contexts, isn’t simply the act of missing a target. Real failure is a choice to take the path of least resistance—to take it easy. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but life was never meant to be easy. It is demanding by design.
As a 39-year-old unc, I have taken my fair share of setbacks, failure, despair, and heartache. In fact, that is the primary landscape I have known; I have been well acquainted with the dark. But the trait I love most about myself is that despite being constantly beaten and broken, I still get up and try again. This specific resilience is severely lacking in this day and age. The second people experience outward friction or opposition, they fold, cave in, and immediately throw in the towel. They beat themselves up, calling themselves “stupid” for landing in tough circumstances. They curse themselves, their fortune, and even God for their injustices.
The reality is that despite how unfair life is, how hard it gets, and how soul-crushing it continues to be, you still possess a choice. You can allow adversity to become a permanent crutch, surrendering to a life of bitterness and complacency, or you can get back up, recalibrate your strategy, and keep pushing until something finally sticks. Even then, success is never guaranteed and life is never certain. The choice remains entirely yours: what do you truly value and want out of this existence? Do you want to stay coddled and refuse to take risks, or do you want to live life on your own terms and strive to become the best version of yourself?
Lately, I have been consuming content online from men in their 50s to 70s sharing their life stories under titles like, “Things I know now that I wish I knew when I was in my twenties or thirties” or “I’m 70 years old with nothing to show for it.” The overwhelming theme of their hindsight is identical: “I fucked around in my twenties partying, associating with people who were a net negative, and I wish I had done something more productive during that pivotal window.”
The flaw in this logic is that even if you could travel back in time to impart your current wisdom to your younger self, nine times out of ten you would flatly reject it and continue living exactly as you did. This is called experience, and it highlights the dangerous side of hindsight. Hindsight is a double-edged sword; it can be amazing to see how far you have traveled, but it can also trap you in an endless loop of "what-ifs."
You shouldn't condemn your younger self for trying to figure life out. You will associate with the wrong people trying to fit in. You will get into entanglements that cause problems down the road. Instead of misallocating your emotional and mental bandwidth to fantasize about alternative timelines, reallocate that exact same energy into the things you actively control. Trust me, it is a million times more rewarding than letting past regrets dictate the remainder of your life.
Nothing is ever guaranteed. Even with the lofty ambitions I have of becoming a certified personal trainer and forging a lucrative career in this specialized fitness niche, it doesn’t mean I have everything perfectly figured out. I can strategize and educate myself all day, but nothing is set in stone. If this specific career path experiences friction, it is not the end of the world; it just means I return to the drawing board to engineer the next best move.
This was the exact same mindset I weaponized when I was medically discharged from the US Navy, when I was struggling through college, navigating my LDS mission, enduring multiple post-undergraduate career setbacks, and learning to navigate the world with late-diagnosed autism and ADHD.
The absolute mandate is to never give up and never surrender. I understand the struggle—believe me, I do. I have marched through the absolute mental pits of hell and despair throughout my nearly forty years on this earth, entertaining thoughts of suicide on multiple occasions. I felt entirely invisible, believing no one would even notice I was gone.
When you live a life surrounded by people who constantly reinforce your inner demons—telling you to your face or behind your back that you are a failure, a disgrace, or that you will never amount to anything—it compounds your own legitimate self-loathing. It is a completely different beast to fight. I battled all of this prior to my autism and ADHD diagnoses, constantly struggling to figure out how to best navigate the world without knowing the underlying mechanics of my own brain. I have dealt with this friction my entire life, so it isn't new to me. But I am fully aware that for many people, hitting this level of mental warfare is new, and it is extremely uncomfortable to face. The vital takeaway is that despite every single odd stacked against your perimeter, you are given this life to forge exactly what you will.
My sincere desire and hope is for you to join me in the lifelong, mundane path of self-actualization and autonomy. Who cares what other people say or think about you? Those who live to tear others down are often spineless losers who will never amount to anything because they prefer a soft, coddled life of mediocrity over taking calculated risks to make a name for themselves. They constantly play the victim, crying online about how “hard” life is. The moment they experience the slightest confrontation or pushback, they immediately freak out and retreat, claiming the risk was too high without ever putting their best foot forward. They resort right back to the stagnant lifestyle they know, wondering why they feel so profoundly miserable.
I know this trap all too well because I was caught in it throughout my twenties and early thirties—minus the victimhood mentality. It may sound harsh, but I am going to tell you exactly how I think: I view people who perpetually bitch about reality and weaponize a victimhood mentality as insufferable. They want life to be coddled to their every whim, throwing tantrums when the universe doesn't go their way. I show deep grace to those who initially struggle but eventually utilize realization, tenacity, and grit to mature from their experiences. But those who choose to permanently live as adult children are insufferable. I’m not sorry; this is how I think and feel.
Reality is experienced differently by everyone. Some people excel in nearly everything they touch. Others have to work twice as hard just to make due with the cards they are dealt. And some choose to live in a state of perpetual limbo, never trying out of a paralyzing fear of inevitable failure. But you will never truly know your capacity until you put your best foot forward and give it an honest, high-stamina go. If it fails, do what I do: return to the drawing board, find the specific actions that move the needle in your life, and expand upon them.
My ultimate desire is to help empower people to escape the damning trap of true failure. I don't want people looking back at their lives with a sense of regret or sadness, unless that is what they actively choose. As for me, I refuse to carry true regrets into the stone. I have had setbacks, but thanks to the unyielding support of my family, my inner circle of friends, and my own unyielding resolve, I have conquered the walls in front of me. I graduated from the exact college that initially dismissed me for unsatisfactory grades, I overcame the deepest thoughts of self-loathing and suicide, and I learned from my experience joining the US Navy before being medically discharged due to my autism and ADHD.
If you feel like you have more to offer and want to learn what you are truly capable of, you will never know until you strike out into the unknown. In J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit, you can stay comfortable like Bilbo Baggins at the start of the journey, enjoying a sheltered life in the Shire, or you can muster the courage to join Gandalf and his ragtag group of dwarves to the Lonely Mountain. In the story, Bilbo asks, “Can you promise me that I will come back?” Gandalf pauses and replies, “No. And if you do, you’ll not be the same.” That is life in a nutshell.
Consider this additional truth from The Fellowship of the Ring. Frodo laments the weight of his burden, telling Gandalf, “I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.” And Gandalf, being the absolute goat that he is, replies compassionately, “So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us.”
How relevant is this to our own perimeters? We all have our own crosses—our own One Rings—to bear. We can allow the heavy rings of our lives to consume and destroy us, or we can choose to bear our lot with gladness, drudging through our own difficult paths to Mount Doom. The beautiful reality is that we do not have to shoulder life alone. If you surround yourself with people who exert a positive influence, who empower you to chase your dreams while offering constructive, grounded criticism, life becomes infinitely more enjoyable, fulfilling, and worthwhile.
Social media aggressively pushes content about being "lone wolves" or "sigma males," claiming that being completely isolated makes you a pseudo-intellectual, enlightened individual. The reality is that as humans, we are social animals. To feel both needed and wanted, we must surround ourselves with people who push us to be better.
I am incredibly passionate about autonomy and self-sovereignty. There are far too many people lost in the soup of life, refusing to truly live, remaining chronically alone online, and refusing to touch grass. As for me, I choose to get back up every single time life knocks me down. Even if I don’t achieve massive financial success, even if I am constantly stuck in the heavy struggle of finding a viable career, or if I don't hit standard societal goals like marriage and remain single for the rest of my days—at least when I go to my deathbed, I will hold my head up high. I will know that I did the absolute best with the time on earth given to do it, and that I became a far better man than the younger version of myself who started the journey. This is my unyielding worldview, and I invite everyone reading this—including my own future self—to develop a similar mindset. Strive to become a more kind, compassionate, and positive human being.
