Post may contain failure and Hot truth
This morning I woke up thinking about High School. Perhaps having a teenager heading to Grade 9 open houses this week has my brain fired up.
I grew up in a small town SK. I started/ended school with the same 24 people (give or take a few). You had your classic cliques: jocks, mean girls, geeks and outcasts.
I fell into two categories - geek and outcast.
While friends spent the summer having sleepovers and going to parties, I was off travelling around the province, showing horses with my family. I would see a couple of friends during the two weeks of swimming lessons and when the local Fair had me showing horses in town but beyond that, I was happily doing my own thing.
I did well in school. I worked hard to keep all my grades at what I perceived was an acceptable level. It was never explicitly said, but good grades implied future success and I took on the weight of that unspoken expectation. I was on or at the top of the honour roll all through school, except for one semester in Grade 12.
Our school was changing from a fall Graduation to a spring Graduation to suit the school division which meant spring midterm marks determined honour roll for grad.
Here lies the rub.
I was one of only two students taking a trigonometry class by satellite and it was tough. My guidance counsellor and principal suggested that if I intended to head to a technical school, I should take this advanced class. You guessed it - spring exams didn't go as planned. 70% in trig is alright but it killed my average dropping me below the 85% cutoff necessary for honor roll. The rest of my classmates, who took the standard workload, did not have the extra class factored into their averages. Why hadn't I considered how this extra class would affect my average? Why am I being punished for taking on extra?
Anger. Injustice. Self-pity.
A few classmates took pleasure in my pain. The afternoon of our gown fitting one classmate was handing out honour roll sashes, and he lifted one for me to take hold of and then snapped it back. "Oh, sorry, you don't get one."
Fuck, that stung. The laughs and snickers from the jocks and mean girls hit hard. I failed and they all saw my failure.
I'm sure I gave some pissy, sarcastic comment while my face turned about twenty shades of red in an attempt to hold back tears. It felt like my world was fucking done.
Shame. Embarrassment. Disbelief.
I felt like I had let myself down, my family down and my teachers(at least those I respected) down. Leading up to that final push of the semester, I was more determined than ever to get back on the honour roll. Head down, get it done, mode engaged. After those last exams were marked, I finished Grade 12 with a 95% average.
Relief. Pride. Joy.
I wanted to celebrate but also felt this intense pull to be humble and keep a lid on the excitement to spare the feelings of others. After all, I was just accomplishing what was expected. No biggy.
Here’s why I share this with you…
My past experiences held lessons that apply to this crazy journey of entrepreneurship.
One, I have known the feeling of failure. Comfortable - no. Necessary - yes, I think so. I couldn't see the flip side then, but failure is a catalyst for building capacity for fortitude. Even now, fifteen years into operating a business, the possibility of failure doesn't cripple my efforts. If anything, it drives me forward. Building that capacity early in life was a gift (even if I still want to give the sash snatching asshole a kick in the nads).
Two, emotions are not something to ignore. As a teen I felt it all but I also intuitively knew what worked for me so I could deal. A big part was writing daily(anyone else remember the small locked diaries) and spending time recharging in nature. Both elements are a part of my daily routine even now and are critical to my mental health.
Three, celebrating our wins doesn't diminish others' efforts. It isn't an "either-or" situation. Hiding accomplishments is a deeply embedded belief I am still working to dismantle. I've learnt that sharing my wins(from a place of joy) helps others see and celebrate the success in their own life.
Now, I’d love to hear from you. Name one life lesson from your youth that you apply to your life today.
Until next time,