FEAR AND FAILURE
That nagging fear of not being smart enough.
“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
Winston Churchill.
A while back, I went on a walk with a new friend. The leaves crunched under our feet as we walked through the rainy Portland rose garden. As we talked, my new friend opened up about a setback he had recently experienced. He was studying for an exam. He put six months of studying and effort into it and he didn’t pass it. Although I could tell it was something that bothered him, I also could tell that in being vulnerable with me, he was sharing so I could get to know him better. So I could know he was the man who occasionally experienced setbacks but who ultimately gets back up and tries again. I was blown away by his authenticity. Hearing the story didn’t make me think of him as a failure and didn’t make me think anything other than that he was brave for trying something hard and for getting back up and trying again.
This conversation led me to share with him some failures that I’ve had in the past. Particularly, some hard times I had academically in dental school. These are things that I don’t share typically – not even with my best friends. When I told him, he asked me, “Why don’t you share these things?” I replied, “Because I am ashamed. Because I am afraid that people will not think I am smart.”
“Why don’t you think you’re smart,” he asked?
Why, indeed?
It’s not that I don’t think I’m somewhat smart; I know I have a baseline intelligence, but I’ve also grown up in the shadow of a younger brother who is very smart and of whom great things were always expected. Being the oldest, I knew I had to get good grades, but I never felt that great things were expected from me academically, career-wise. My parents are two amazing, loving, wonderful people, and I know they did not create that kind of dynamic, but it still existed for me. I’m not exactly sure where it all came from, but I do know that I grew up thinking that women couldn’t be as smart as men.
And yet, some part of me, the true part of me, fought against this and sought to always prove that this was not true. But every time I experienced some sort of academic setback, whether it was a bad grade or not being able to figure out a math problem on my own, I would hear the voice inside my head say, “See I told you. You are not that smart; you can’t do this.”
As this new friend and I continued to talk, I shared that I felt like my determination had got me a lot farther in life than my intelligence. He asked me if somebody can be both determined and smart and if both of those things can work together? I knew he was right.
If you ever want to really hurt me or make me feel insecure, you can criticize my intelligence. I’ve come to realize that this is a real raw spot for me. As much as I write about bravery and courage, I don’t yet have the bravery and courage to really talk about some of these things. Because ultimately I am afraid someone will read them and say, “Ha ha! I knew it. I knew she wasn’t that smart.”
But I’m writing it down and sharing it anyway. Because the last thing this world needs is another pretty blogger who has their life all perfect and together. We need to be more transparent with each other.
Dental school was one of the most challenging affronts to my feelings of self-worth based on my intelligence. In short, it didn’t come naturally to me. I can study and get decent grades, but I really had to do extra work to be competent in my hand skills. And that was hard. It made me feel dumb. Some days, I felt so frustrated I would go to the bathroom and cry. But I had one professor in particular who believed in me. One day, I went to see her during her office hours and just cried. I told her I was worried that I wasn’t good enough to be a dentist. I’ll never forget what she said,
“Tesha, there are definitely people in your class that I’m worried about, but you’re not one of them. You know why? You’re willing to work hard. And I’m here to help.”
So I did extra work with her to get where I needed to be. I practiced and practiced until I could do it. When I wasn’t good at something, I practiced and practiced until I got it right. That’s where my determination was bigger than my hand skills or my intelligence.
Working hard at learning new skills in dental school.
I can be a great, competent, talented pediatric dentist, who also received a ‘C’ in a class in dental school. I refuse to let it define me. Do you think after I got that ‘C’ I just accepted that I was “bad at that part of dentistry?” Hell no. I asked instructors to work with me. I did extra work. And I got better. A lot better.
The truth is that I’ve tried really hard at some things and have been mediocre or worse, even failed at them. But that did not define me. And I did not allow it to be a failure forever. Even now, as I contemplate whether or not I want to complete my board certification process as a pediatric dentist, I hear that old familiar voice say, “Are you even smart enough to take this? Or are you just going to fail?”
What is it in your life that you’re afraid of failing? What’s holding you back from taking a leap?
What are you afraid to try?