Your Excuse Is Showing

You know what really gets on my nerves? When people look at where I am and say, “Wow, you’re so lucky.” As if I just tripped and fell into my successes like some rom-com protagonist who accidentally stumbles into the arms of a billionaire. Babe, if luck had anything to do with this, I’d have won the lottery by now and be sipping a cocktail on a private island.

The truth? I’ve failed more times than you’ve even tried. And I say that with love (and maybe a little sass). Because here’s the thing: every so-called “lucky” moment in my life is built on a mountain of face-plants, rejections, embarrassing missteps, and nights crying into my pillow wondering if I should just pack it in and take up basket weaving instead.

I wasn’t “lucky” to land my dream job. I applied, got rejected, applied again, tweaked my CV, networked, sent a risky follow-up email that made my palms sweat, and finally got my foot in the door.

I wasn’t “lucky” to get good at something – I was absolutely dreadful at it first, made an idiot of myself more times than I can count, and probably should have quit. But I didn’t. And now people assume it just came naturally.

I wasn’t “lucky” to be in a happy relationship, I dated absolute disasters, had my heart shattered, made terrible choices, and at one point was convinced I was destined for a life of aggressively single energy and pet cats (which, to be fair, still sounds kind of iconic).

I know, I know, failure is scary. No one likes to fall flat on their face, especially in the age of social media where it feels like everyone’s watching. But you know what’s worse? Not trying at all and staying stuck in the same place while calling other people “lucky.”

Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity, but you need to be out there, failing, learning, improving, and putting yourself in the right places for that opportunity to show up.

So, here’s your push.

If you’ve been hesitating on going after something because you’re scared of failing, let me let you in on a little secret: you will fail. Gloriously. Spectacularly. Possibly in a way that makes you want to crawl into a hole for a week. But then? You’ll try again. And again. And one day, someone’s going to look at you and say, “You’re so lucky.” And you, my dear, will laugh.

Now go fourth and fail. Your future self is waiting.