Failing to Overcome the Fear of Failure
Facing Up to It Is Not Easy
Atychiphobia (noun): 1. a fear of failure
Fear of failure is something I have struggled with, well, ever since I can remember, but I only found out recently that it is a psychological . . . condition (?) and there is a name for it. I’ve always thought of it as a character flaw.
If I believed I couldn’t be good at something, I didn’t even want to try. As an adult, there have been times when I wished that, as a young fella, someone could have explained to me that failing is not the worst thing in the world, that failure is an opportunity to learn, that there is value in trying, that it’s impossible to be good at everything, and that, sometimes, one has to fail to figure out how to succeed.
Not to be a big whiny baby about it, but I did not get that from anyone, not a parent, not a coach or teacher or guidance counselor, no one.
Ah, to be honest, I probably would not have listened anyway. Ever since I can remember, I have always thought I had to decipher the world on my own, and it was weak to ask for, or accept, help.
Looking back at that sweet, innocent boy (yes, I’m describing myself), a childhood example of being consumed by the fear of failure was when I tried out for Little League the summer I was nine. I played baseball in the backyard and during recess at school and I really liked running around, and throwing and catching and hitting a ball. I was kind of excited about being on a real team and playing in real games.
So, tryout day came and I borrowed my cousin’s Bill Mazeroski model baseball glove and went to play some ball. The first thing they had my group do was to field grounders. And, I did fine at that. Then they switched us to catching pop-ups and that didn’t go so well. It was humiliating to watch the baseball hit the ground because I couldn’t catch it.
Then, it was time to grab a bat and take a few swings. In my memory, the kid on the mound was really big. And, he threw the ball really fast. The bat felt like a tree trunk and it seemed as if the ball was by me before I even started to swing. I got three swings and never came close to hitting the ball. More humiliation.
In fact, I was so mortified by being embarrassingly terrible at baseball, that I didn’t go back, even though I had been assigned to a team. (They took every kid who tried out.) I still liked the game and still played in the backyard and at school, and I knew I was getting a little bit better at it. But I never tried Little League again, because the fear of failing in front of everyone was too much for me to bear.
It took me four years to overcome that fear. In our area, there was a Connie Mack team for ages 13-15. This time it went a little better. I think I was one of the last ones to make the team (there was only one team and roster spots were limited). I didn’t get to play a lot until I was 15, (maybe because, at least in part, I lacked the four years of Little League experience the other guys had). In that instance, I overcame the fear.
Did I learn anything from that experience? Maybe, but as I think back, I would have to say sometimes it appears as though I didn’t learn a damned thing. As I grew up, I continued to shy away from situations that could possibly expose me to the humiliation of not being good at something.
I did eventually learn that in order to have any kind of life, sometimes I had to make myself do that with which I was unfamiliar or lacking in the natural ability to accomplish. Like start a new job, or ask a girl for a date. Whatever successes I’ve had in life, either large or small, almost always required some degree of overcoming the fear of sucking.
I know for a fact I have missed out on many pleasurable experiences because it was just easier to back away, than it was to overcome. Here’s another, albeit minor, example. After I left home to begin my adult life, I got a job working in a bank. I was living in a strange new world far from home, where I did not know anyone. I knew I had to make an effort to get past my ingrained inclination to avoid the new and unfamiliar. My co-workers had scheduled an after hours party at a bar, so I went. We all had a few drinks and it seemed like we were all having a pretty good time. Even me.
This place had a dance floor and someone suggested we do some kind of line dancing thing. I did not know how to do it, of course. I had never tried it before, because I knew I had the great potential to look like an uncoordinated fool.
Perhaps the liquor relaxed my inhibitions a bit, because I soon found myself on the dance floor, trying to get the steps right. Then a woman I worked with laughed at me when I goofed up. I did not take it well. I stormed off and never set foot on a dance floor ever again.
As I write this, many years later, it seems kind of . . . pathetic. I wish I would have just laughed with her, and enjoyed myself no matter what anybody thought. And, what was the big deal, anyway? Who cared if I wasn’t a good dancer? Well, I cared. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did.
And, even all this time later, I still experience that old fear of failure, on occasion. It is way easier to avoid the unknown, and it takes a real psychological effort do something I would rather not do because of the fear of failing.
Sometimes I am more successful at the effort than others.
I do not want to be one of those crybaby adults who blames undesirable behavior on a problematic childhood. I do acknowledge one’s upbringing and experiences have an effect on the kind of people we are as adults. But, we adults have to realize that we cannot use the “my daddy didn’t love me” excuse, or something similar, for continuing to exhibit undesirable behavior as a grownup. Part of being an adult is taking responsibility for one’s own actions, and making adjustments as needed, whether working out the issue by oneself, heeding the counsel of trusted friends or family, or seeking professional help.
Change is hard, though. When your brain has been telling you the same thing over and over for most of your life, it can be extremely difficult to tell it to shut the hell up.
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