When the Future you Fear is Failure

When I was in 6th grade, I loved basketball. Not just “watch it on TV” loved — I dreamed of being in the NBA.

I went to the first day of basketball tryouts… and then I never went back.

To this day, I couldn’t tell you why. I wasn’t injured. I wasn’t grounded. I just didn’t show up again. Instead, I sat in the stands, cheered for my friends, and quietly wondered why I wasn’t down there with them. Over 40 years later, I still regret it.

It’s one of those little life mysteries — not the kind where you lie awake every night thinking about it, but the kind that whispers every now and then: What if you had tried?

A couple years later, in 8th grade, my school offered drama and journalism as electives. I loved acting — heck, I dreamed about being an actor. Drama would’ve been the obvious choice… but I picked journalism. And once again, I sat in the audience, watched my friends on stage, and imagined myself up there instead.

I don’t think I was lazy. I don’t think I lacked interest. Looking back, I think I was pre-living the crash-and-burn moment before I even stepped on the court or stage. My brain ran the whole “what if” scenario — What if I’m terrible? What if people laugh? What if I fail? — and then quietly decided it was safer to never find out.

But here’s the thing: the “safety” of never trying has its own cost. I never had to face public failure in basketball or acting… but I did have to live with quiet regret. And regret lasts a whole lot longer.

Thankfully, my story doesn’t end there. In college, I took a risk on the debate team and ended up becoming pretty good at it — good enough to help launch a career in education. I earned not just one but three advanced degrees, including my doctorate. I’ve published novels, started a podcast, built a blog, and created content online.

I used to spend so much energy wondering, What will people think if I do this? Now I just think, Either I’m going to do it, or I’m not.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t pre-live failure into nonexistence. You can only live the moment you’re in — and that moment is where possibility exists.

Reflection Question:
What’s something you’ve been holding back on because you’ve already “lived” the failure in your head? What might change if you just tried?