A Failing Forward Perspective

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Photo by Randy Tarampi

“Try again. Fail again. Fail better.” – Samuel Beckett

 There are a lot of things in my life I wish I did better. A lot of things I wish I hadn’t said. A lot of things I wish I hadn’t done. A lot of relationships I could have left behind earlier. A lot of words I could have shared. A lot of apologies and thank yous I could have given.

There is a lot I have failed to do. There is a lot I will fail to do.

And that’s okay.

Failure is one of those words that I have worked to shift into a new perspective for years now.

Growing up, failure was red ink decorating hard work and circling big letters that indicated my intelligence. Failure was met with a pat on the back and a good try when I didn’t win. Failure was everything I ached to get away from because success was the opposite of failure and in my life, there was just failure.

When I watched my parent's marriage fall apart – failure. It meant love had no success rate. Their relationship divulged into anger, resentment, and deep loathing. It taught me a version of success in love that exists, but shouldn’t be modeled.

Failure surrounded me when I watched my sister get her doctorate and master's at twenty-four (so incredibly proud of her), but then look at my life and create comparisons to two entirely different people. Failure is a subtle voice that lingers because, at thirty, I haven’t achieved financial independence and am still alone.

Failure is the hopes and desires my parents have had for me that I have still not met.

Failure can be hard. Painful. Isolating. Dividing. Breaking. Scary. Failure can be a lot of things.

But it can also be hope.

When I first heard Samuel Beckett’s “fail again” quote in a small college performance room, written on a giant whiteboard by our acting coach on the second floor of a building across from Capital Records, I didn’t understand it. In fact, I mentally couldn’t process why anyone would continue to want to fail. Society has so adeptly added negative connotations to the word ‘failure’ that making positive sense of a negative word seemed impossible.

It wasn’t until years after I finally started to put together a new definition of what failure really is and it has shaken everything up for me. (Not always right away, but the shift is positive.)

I have been looking at failure through the lens of disappointment and shame instead of opportunity and growth. I have exacerbated those hurtful feelings by reinforcing the negativity of the word inside my mind.

Even though the shift started to happen, it has still taken a lot of time to and takes a lot of mental power to actively think of failing as positive.

Sara Blakely’s story about failure is one I come back to frequently. If you don’t know who Sara Blakely is, that’s okay because I didn’t either. She is the founder and CEO of Spanx. A woman with a mission to make all women comfortable in their clothes. She also is a major reason I take lessons from my failures.

She grew up sitting around a table with her family every night being asked what they failed at today. The disappointment was never in the failure itself, but in not having something to share. Sara learned at a young age that failure was an opportunity and a chance to learn. It wasn’t something to beat herself up about rather what she could do differently. This offered her perspective into the world most of us weren’t taught.

Her success is built on failure. Steve Jobs success is built on failure. Joe Kudla’s success is built on failure. There is a plethora of people that have succeeded only because they saw failure as a step in the right direction, not a dead end.

While I constantly walk forward and keep working to shift this mindset every single day, I keep in mind that my success is only as wonderful as my biggest failure. But first, I have to be willing to fail. And fail forward we will.

Love Always,

Riss

overwhelm

have you ever put yourself in the position of extreme amounts of overwhelm? overbooking with work, work functions, social functions, school, some or all of the above?

well hello, I can relate. as a matter of fact, look at the image I picked for this post, somewhere under all those flames I am trying to put that fire out.

see I run this cycle. its like the load of whites that I just can’t seem to get white enough so I add more bleach and I run the cycle again and again until the clothes are destroyed, because bleach does that too.

this pattern falls heavily in my life. I seem to run in this circle where I will overwork myself to the point of exhaustion. where my life starts to become this big cloud of anxiety because I have so much on my plate. where I can’t simply focus on one thing, but always have to be ten steps ahead, or else I will get behind.

then the day comes where finally I explode. I can’t take it anymore so I stop everything. I blow up at the people I love. I become quiet and reserved. I become difficult to work with. I resist anything that is different from my own thoughts and opinions and I firmly believe it has to do with my upbringing and how I have set my mentality.

to be totally honest, I actually haven’t been in this bad of a place in a long time. I set my boundaries to no work on weekends. then I changed that to accommodate one of the places I work to help out with a class. then I fell in love with programming and getting creative for that class so I took it on fully. then I changed my job around and decided I could work at least one day on weekends for a few hours now limiting my life, availability, and how I want to live.

and that’s only half of it. I extended my working hours for the potential to bring in more income. but what do we say? we don’t wait for potential. in order to get it, we have to just go for it. unfortunately, if you are not inclined to sell to people or pull them into your circle because you have a quota to hit, it doesn’t really work.

but I can also pull in the stress and say that adds to it, sending my mind into a shut down that makes it impossible to accomplish anything.

but then we have the social circle. and while I love being social with my friends, I can feel work dragging the life out of me making it difficult for me to want to attend events outside of my bed.

are you tired yet just reading this?

most of this is a vent. but it is my heart and my truth and it is part of my mission to share that with you so that you can see the real me all the time. maybe you can relate in some way. but I wanted to share today, my overwhelm that happens when I re-prioritize based on the needs of others and what happens when I put my own on a shelf to be dusted off at a later date.

life should be fun and exciting. when we do too much, that excitement disappears. when we work too hard, the exhaustion sets in and replaces life with a numbness that embodies every part of us just so that we can get through another day.

I could sit here and list off to you what I don’t want. it would be rather easy. but don’ts are negative and that only brings those things in. so here it is instead:

I want a life that is full of excitement every single day

I want a career that I will wake up and be excited about sitting down to do

I want energy that radiates from me allowing everyone to see the light that I hold

I want to give other people energy simply by loving the life I live

I want time to myself and time for my friends and time for my family

I want happiness beyond belief

I want to spark change

I want to genuinely connect with others and build long lasting relationships because I value the human race

and beyond all – I want more love in my life and to make others feel a little less alone every single day

I can want these things but the real question - how do I get to them? my hunch, start by letting go of the overwhelm and letting these be my guide instead. and then just do and see what happens from there.

so I ask you today, put aside the don’ts, the cant’s, the wonts and tell me:

what do you want? (seriously email me because I would love to know!)

love Always,

Riss

when life gives you lemons

when life gives you lemons…

I lived in Maine for 3 years almost to the day I left. and while I have some wonderfully traumatic events that consumed me, I also have some incredibly simple, beautiful, isolated moments.

I want to share a short story with you. one I hope you can take with you and share with others. one that will give you a new perspective on your own possibilities.

one day, toward the end of winter, I was walking into work. at the time I lived only a quick seven-minute walk. although on days like this, it may have taken closer to twelve while I shuffled over black ice and glided through slush lining the uneven brick across Portland’s streets.

if you have never been to Portland, you should go. it is a beautiful little city. (I say little because the main part of the city is about a mile across.) my favorite time of year is fall – but nowhere I have been yet beats the New England fall leaves so I am a little biased.

I digress.

in the heart of this small city is monument square. dressed with a beautiful Christmas tree, decorative lights, and mother natures natural ambiance. surrounded by several local restaurants and café’s and while not my favorite street of Portland, I did have the pleasure of passing through it every morning.

I was working at a gym as the operations assistant and group fitness coordinator and was also the opener – so I was there around 5/5:30 Monday through Friday morning. needless to say, my walks were freezing cold on pre, middle of, and post winter days (because winters in Maine last 6 months).

I was never nervous walking alone that early. some days I had peaks of anxiety because of the homeless population. the rational part of me, never thought I would ever be attacked or approached. but the anxiety ridden part of me well… she could come alive real fast.

on this one particular morning, there were actually two people in the square, which was far more than normal at five in the morning on a winter day. I struggled to scurry past quick enough to avoid comments or interactions with the people there – I will admit, there is a piece of me that feels a little shallow and like a terrible person for those thoughts. but I also believe it is natural to be on edge.

except I was stopped.

the stop wasn’t more than several seconds but it was enough to stir my heart and my mind.

this woman who had been rummaging through a garbage bin had been talking to herself. as I was making my way past, head down, alarms up, her words became more clear.

she stopped me more with her words than with the actual intent to stop me and said:

when life gives you lemons, what do you do?

and after a very short pause, I continued on to get to work. but I went with those words locked in my mind.

I was startled, stunned, shocked, but most of all - I was moved.

I don’t remember what exactly was going on in my life at that point, but I know that I had been struggling with something, most likely in my relationship, at the time. so when this woman asked this simple question, it made me dig into myself deeper than I had been willing to go.

scared to make moves and make changes, and not recognizing the opportunities lain all around me, I was stagnant and stuck in my life. I would say unfortunately, but we don’t believe in unfortunate events here, instead we relish in those moments and embrace them as learning moments. however it did take me a couple years to grasp onto the meaning of that question and how it would impact my life. how today it is a question I often find myself coming back to in order to reconnect with my life.

see the phrase

when life gives you lemons, make lemonade

has the implication to mean that when you are handed a gift or opportunity, turn it into the potential of what it could be.

I on the other hand, now have a different thought on that. why make lemonade, when I can take those lemons and make something so much greater. why stop at the easy option and instead go further. why not see more potential and more opportunity within what those lemons hold.

when I am blessed with gifts in this life, which happens to be every day, I do more than make lemonade. I build on those lemons, I use them as a foundation to boost myself further and make advances in all areas of my life: career, family, friends, hopes, dreams… you get the point.

I don’t sit in stagnation anymore. do I linger sometimes? absolutely. I am after all, only human. but I am a human who is willing to change and grow into someone that will do more with the life I’ve been given so that I can give back to others.

so next time you find yourself handed something that you weren’t expecting. handed more time. more work. more opportunities. more ideas. more grace. more love.

 

I ask you:

what will you do?

love always,

Riss

a beautiful day to be alive

when was the last time you stopped and just took a long slow breath. not to calm down. not to ease anxiety. not to find your patience. but simply to just breathe.

four times a day, my phone reminds me to take deep breaths. it’s this reminder that pulls me back into whatever moment I am in. sometimes I’m driving and my mind has wandered to faraway lands. sometimes I’m reading lost in someone else’s story. sometimes I’m working but thinking about the guy or my friends or family or the millions of other things I want or need to get done.

but without fail - every single time I am reminded to breathe, I come back into me.

there is simplicity in breath. there is truth. there is peace. and so often we take it for granted.

I tell my body combat class on Monday nights, every day we wake up is a good day. each moment is a blessing. each breath is ours.

and think about that for a moment, we give so much to other people: our thoughts, opinions, words, time, space, homes, love, etc. but your breath- that is yours. you get to keep that and it belongs to you.

without breath, we would not stand. we would not wake up. we would not be able to live the full amazing lives we are blessed with. breath is the greatest gift we as humans, have been given.

so I challenge you this weekend and every day for the next week to come back to your breath. write yourself sticky notes, put reminders in your phone, ask your friends to send reminders. and allow yourself those tiny moments to simply be with you.

you are a gift. you are amazing. you are you and that is enough.

  Love Always,

Riss

The imPerfect Body

*trigger warning for anyone struggling with eating disorders

*if you or anyone you know is struggling with eating disorders you can call (866)256-3563 for support.

some of what I have written below is unknown to nearly anyone in my life including the therapists I have had over the years - so to the friends and family that have been my support, I love you and am so grateful for everything you have done for me. your support has not gone unnoticed or unappreciated. you have all saved me in more ways than I can count.

this is a moment of pure vulnerability so please read with a kind heart. and if you or anyone you know might benefit from this and knowing you are not alone please share this and please reach out if there is anything I can do to support you.

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For the last twenty years, I have struggled with the idea that my body is not perfect. With that comes the idea that in order for it to be perfect I need to eat a certain way – which is not eating or binging and then purging.

While the adolescent version of me didn’t necessarily pertain to these methods, the young adult version did. I can remember the first time I sat thinking about what I “needed” to do to get my body to where I wanted it to be. How could I possibly attain this level of perfection that I had been envisioning since I was playing with Barbie’s.

Yes, I will say that I wholeheartedly believe Barbie had a huge effect on my mental state, amongst many other things. From growing up in the world of dance to constantly comparing myself to my sisters and friends. Hearing comments about my body from my dad. Never feeling wanted by anyone all through high school. Constantly feeling like even if I did scream, no one would hear and certainly, no one would care was a burden I took to mean I wasn’t beautiful and that’s why no one liked me.

(If I could go back in time I would squeeze that little girl and tell her she is the most beautiful greatest thing on this planet and everything is going to be okay.)

My freshman year of college was when I finally decided to do something about the way I looked. It started by finally getting into the gym. I would get up early and go before class, but it still didn’t do enough for me fast enough. The levels of perfection so carefully carved into my mind felt even further away than before. So… my friend Kristen and I sat down and decided to make a pact….

We would starve ourselves and workout more and we would do it together. Hold each other accountable. Check in with each other. Make sure the slow deterioration of our bodies was happening at a steady state. We weren’t going to do it forever, we just wanted to drop some weight fast. That’s what I told myself anyway.

I truly believed that was the only way that I would be attractive to people. Sometimes I still believe it. It certainly isn’t easy and it can be scary. When friends, male friends to be more specific, started commenting on how good I was looking, it made it easier to keep going. To sit in the dining hall, nursing a water or a small salad because “I wasn’t hungry”. I could feel the fatigue taking a toll though.

Every morning was more difficult than the last to get up. Every morning was like a giant weight holding me down. Every workout was harder and harder and every day I was a little more disappointed in myself.

You know there is part of me that wishes someone had cared enough to ask if I was alright. Not that people didn’t care, but no one was concerned. Which in turn made me feel worse. Realizing that I was so overweight, that when I starved myself to a point of reaching a true healthy weight I finally became more attractive. It confirmed everything I had been telling myself. It was definitive that being unhealthy would make me look healthy. That was all the confirmation I needed to understand that temporary was going to last a lot longer.

As the weeks went on, Kristen and I would talk about how exhausted we were and how that must mean it’s working. Even after our pact died off, I stopped eating as much and when I did, I felt so much guilt and shame I would cry myself to sleep – disgusted. The guilt radiated. It was like this evanescent glow lingering in the background of my mind: dim and worn but strong enough to pull me down. Taunting and teasing me- keeping me locked in the shadows of my own mind. Scared of myself and what I would do next, but ready to keep going anyway.

So when I started eating again and after the guilt had surmounted to an unreasonable amount, that was when I took to the toilet. I’ll be honest, the first time I tried, it did not go well, which ironically, makes that a good thing. With the thought of giving up looming, I dug into the resilient part of me and refused to let one try be the end all be all. So I tried again and you know what? I succeeded.

I started to indulge in the food from Southside Dining Center and would follow it up with a quick trip to the toilet to rid my body of the crap normally referred to as nutrients and sustenance.

I did try to stop. Multiple times. I actually remember one moment very clearly. I had just had sushi with friends and we were back in the dorm lounge. I had this combative conversation running through my mind –

Don’t do it. You know it’s not good for you.

So what? It feels good. Plus you just put a whole lot of fat and grime in your body why wouldn’t you?

Because it isn’t healthy. There are other ways.

None as quick or efficient as this.

I won’t give in.

But you will.

And I did. I sat in front of that toilet for ten minutes before I did anything that night. After puking everything out of my system, I knew I needed to call my mom.

Crying on the phone, I told her what had been going on. She did the right thing. Other than be the most supportive person I could have asked for, she told me I was coming home at the end of the semester and we would figure out what to do when I was back. Therapy was not a choice and in order to go back to school, I had to get things right again. I told no one why I was leaving except for the guy who would later be my first boyfriend. Sounds silly when I say it now, but I was ashamed of what I had allowed to become of myself. Since my self judgement was already heavy, I didn’t want the weight of other people’s thoughts and opinions too.

The funny thing is, I still didn’t achieve the body I wanted. It still wasn’t enough.

I wasn’t enough.

Having family right in the other room should have been some semblance of motivation, them watching out for me, but honestly, it never is because at the end of the day it all comes from inside. It’s my own self-worth that wasn’t measuring up. It was the constant comparisons and lack of emotionally stable parents growing up that led me down this trail of self-deprecating thoughts and actions.

(Of course I don’t blame them anymore. I believe people are just doing the best they can, even when it hurts. Things were what they were and I’m a better person today for all of it. I wouldn’t trade those experiences for the world.)

Jump forward another 10 years and we have reached present day me. The evolution of me has not been perfect and in these continuous blog posts I will continue to let you into the dark moments in my life as well as some of the brightest.

I am still on this journey. I still struggle with my body at times and I do have my bad days. Days when I find myself hovering over a toilet bowl or finding other ways to cleanse my system. It hurts and it is never fun and the wave of guilt that passes over never changes or lessens. It remains prominent and bold. Demanding of attention I do not wish to give it but somehow cater to all the same. Ashamed that no one will love me because I’m still struggling with this.

I wish I could say now I have achieved “perfect”, but this has been one of the biggest lessons in my life around the ideal of perfection:

If we constantly seek perfection, we will never get there. Skinny enough will never be enough. Strong enough will never be strong enough. Smart enough will never be enough. It’ll never be the right time or the right person. Nothing will ever be enough.

So why did I share all of this? Not to bring you down or give you a moment of woe is me, but to share that the continual search for perfection leads nowhere good.

Instead, I have been working on learning how to accept progress and let go of everything else. I don’t have to be perfect, and neither do you. We are human and the only thing that matters is finding love for ourselves in ourselves. This is not easy for a lot of people and I recognize that. All we can do is keep trying, putting one foot in front of the other.

I believe we are all capable of love. I believe we are all capable of loving ourselves for ourselves. Most importantly, I believe that we are destined for more than we will ever be able to give ourselves credit for.

These words do not come lightly. These words are from the bottom of my heart.

You are a gift. You are a gift as you are in this walk of life and in this moment. You will continue to be a gift and no matter what perfection you are struggling to achieve, I will be here to say I love you and you have a friend in me.

Love always is more than loving others, it’s loving ourselves too. Sometimes we just need to hear it first.

Love Always,

Riss