Failure is such an odd concept. In truth, we likely have very few actual “failures” in life that matter, though you can feel like a failure in pretty much every aspect of your life at pretty much any point in time. When I initially sat down to write about failure it was much more optimistic, but failure stings the most in the moment it is happening, or at least it is that way for me.
Yesterday I learned someone I dated has a new relationship and I wish it didn’t bother me- the fact that it does feels like a failure. I want to be past the point of caring. Then I think about how he was able to have the “feeling” with this other woman but not me and that also feels like a failure. Then it mounts and I think about the past year and go down a rabbit hole: Weight gain=failure; no career growth=failure; still in debt=failure.
But really, I know failure is the wrong word for all of these situations, even if it feels like the right one at the moment. Just let me have this, let me wallow in self pity awhile longer. Let me sit on the floor and beat my fists on the ground for a moment, have a full blown tantrum, because that’s what I want to have.
If you enter into your mid-thirties and are single, overweight and in a job you don’t love you will feel like a walking cliché, trust me on this. But somehow I’m aging past “The Hollywood cliché” into the “bookclub cliché”; women in movies that are waiting for the ah-ha moment are always in their early 30s. When I compared myself to Bridget Jones the other day my (younger) friend pointed out I couldn’t be like her because I am not an alcoholic or a smoker. My reply 1) I am OLDER than she was so therefore my hangovers are even worse and I’ve worked on sorting out my relationship with alcohol, 2) Americans do not smoke as much as our British and European counterparts so that is a moot point and 3) I have no friends to go out and party with anymore, which is most likely the true reason I am neither an alcoholic or smoker. After going out by yourself a few times with the sole mission to “party” you realize getting black out drunk with strangers is probably a bad idea and at this point, you’re pushing your luck. Trust me, I have pushed it!
As People settle down, partner up, stay home, watch their kids and veg out in front of the tv there are fewer opportunities to meet people unless you seek them, and as an introvert doing that can be daunting. This is by no means meant to be a pitying statement, it is a pitying statement that I can’t even claim Bridget Jones as my spirit animal anymore, I didn’t think that day would come before my Mr. Darcy but alas it has, I am entering Charlotte territory (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, please go read Pride and Prejudice).
My current feeling of failure is not about this guy, nor is it about actual failure. I just wish it was my turn already. I have put in the work, have I not? Is it because I have been so fearful after this past Fall and those horrid encounters. I am sure there are some female whackadoos out there, but I doubt men are ever worried it will be a BAD night that could potentially end in their death when they go out on their 371st online date. Now the pendulum swings between guys with potential and guys without seem to be even longer than they did a few years ago. I’m not trying to make excuses, I know so much of dating and finding the person is getting back out there, but right now I want to flail my arms and beat the ground and scream “why do I have to do this again!”
I feel I failed the girl I was this time last year. She had been broken, but still had so much hope and faith. She believed in herself and put herself out there and tried to find love again. She felt so close to it, like she could reach out and touch it (or so she thought). I wish I was able to find her hope, more for the woman I used to be than the woman I am now, someone who is just shut off, tired and scared of trusting love once more. I still feel close to the potential of finding “it” but then the pendulum swings and I feel further away than I ever have before.
too fat to be italian 