What My Worst Failure Taught Me

Survive Until Monday.

When I was in high school, I co-authored the worst love letter known to man. Now, to be fair, the letter itself was well-drafted, except for the closing, which was... questionable. But from the moment it was written, it was destined for disaster.

You see, I wasn't exactly the most popular guy in school. My looks were the least of my problems, I was mostly disliked for my know-it-all attitude. And the girl I had my eye on? A pretty, popular, and effortlessly brilliant genius. I knew this because she was our group leader for every project. We were in the same study group for every single subject, thanks to the school's PEER program. She had a way with words. We seemed to get along well. So I took my shot.

The Set-Up

Two "friends" of mine cornered me in economics class and asked who I had a crush on. I fought the urge to tell them, but they relentlessly coaxed it out of me. Once I admitted it, they convinced me to confess, or better yet, write her a letter.

So, I did. A completely heartfelt, Shakespearean-level masterpiece that spoke of her gaming features (don't ask), and how I'd be honored if she became my girlfriend. My "friends" eagerly volunteered to deliver it to her in the next period. As I handed it over, a deep, sinking feeling set in. And even as I write this now, I can still feel that exact same dread.

The Disaster

Two periods later, the school day was almost over. I hadn't heard a thing. I came to terms with the fact that I had been silently rejected. And I promise you, the pain was deep. It wasn't just rejection. It felt like I was invisible.

But before the darkness could settle, it got worse. From across the hall, I heard two excited voices charging toward me. "She's waiting for you outside!"

My heart leaped forward, I had to hold my mouth to keep it from falling out. There she was. Her mouth pursed. Eyes staring daggers at me. "What the hell is this?" she asked, waving my letter. "Did you write this?" I answered weakly: "Yeah..."

And right there, in front of a growing audience, she tore into me while simultaneously tearing my letter to shreds. Her defining statement? "You think a girl like me would date a guy like you?"

I broke. I tried to run, but my "friends" held me in place. And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did. I looked up and realized that a massive crowd had gathered in the only doorway I could use to escape. She advanced. I did what any self-respecting, heartbroken teenager would do, I ran straight into the crowd, shoving my way through like a contestant in an old-school Gladiator competition. Eventually, I made it to the bathroom and locked myself in.

Surviving Until Monday

The rest of the weekend was a blur of taunts and teasing. But nothing worried me more than Monday. Because on Monday, I'd have to walk into class, sit next to her, and face it all over again. I could not, for the life of me, imagine what that was going to be like.

But Monday came. I showed up. Sat down. And, except for a few people catching up on the gossip, nothing happened. At some point in the day, she even looked over, smirked, and said: "You've got guts. I'll give you that."

The Business and Life Lessons

Survive until Monday. You have no choice but to put yourself out there. Vulnerability is part of the process. If you want to change the world, or even just change your world, it requires a level of bravery you may not have discovered in yourself yet.

Be careful who you listen to. Not everyone on your team is actually on your side. The sad reality is that you may not know who is for you until they're tested. But trust your instincts.

It's never as bad as you think. The worst that can usually happen is rejection. And trust me, you will survive rejection.

You haven't met the best version of yourself yet. The best version of you is the one that walks through fire and comes out stronger. You only find that version of yourself when you've faced the worst that can happen.

I'd love to end this story by saying she and I ended up married with 2.5 kids, but this is real life. Instead, I walked away with a life lesson and a little trauma, which, hopefully, allows me to inspire you today. Have a great day.