This semester, I did something I have done many times before: I withdrew from a class. I’ve probably done it a few too many times now, considering my advisor began his withdrawal approval email with “Ugh.” Despite the “W” that appears on your transcript after withdrawing, it’s not really a win. And while it’s not REALLY failing since my oh-so-important GPA remains unaffected, the time, money and energy all go to waste. And that feeling remains. 

It’s the feeling I get when I receive a bad grade, forget my dad’s birthday again or accidentally knock over a soda display at ACME, causing soda to spill everywhere, and just walk away. But an old lady saw me, and I just know she thought less of me. When it came to withdrawing, I had that same feeling. I felt like a failure.

No one wants to feel like a failure, ever. That’s obvious. But oftentimes, it feels so overwhelming and inevitable. Especially today, in a world where young people often seem set up to fail. And truthfully, it is inevitable. Death, disappointment, failure — these are guarantees in our lives (ones I think we have all accepted), yet we continue to burden ourselves with the pursuit of absolute perfection and punish ourselves for the unavoidable. 

I feel we need to change our thinking. Failure, as damning as it feels, is just a short-term disappointment, and every act of failing opens you up to a new way of being. Just for a moment, think of all those painful memories. Whether they were within your control or the universe just had it out for you that day, bask in those failures. Revel in the absurdity. Embrace those moments. Appreciate how they have shaped you into who you are today: someone resilient, someone amazing. We should never simply accept failure, but when we do fail, we should still be able to accept ourselves, even if it means changing our very idea of true success.

So, anyway, this is how I plan to tell my mom I’ll need to take a winter class to graduate on time.