It's ok to be a failure

If 30 years on this planet has taught me anything, it's how much of a failure I am. Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for sympathy, reassurance or some form of compliment to lift my depressed state of mind, I'm just simply stating a very well known fact.

I'm a failure.

I have spent the best part of the last decade, convincing myself I am a real writer, that my passion for the art of words and my conviction in those words are enough to call myself a professional. Of course it's all bullshit and something only a small percentage of us could hope to actually achieve.

Sure, Vocal is an amazing platform to share your mind map of stories, ideas, poems and a little bullshit. I have used it to write my darkest secrets and my loneliest lows. My highest points and my funniest confessions. But, does that make me a writer? Well, maybe. But a professional writer? No.

My failings started when I left college. I dropped out of my A levels for the sake of a penis and a good spliff and for a couple of years, I didn't look back. I spent the best part of my days with a bunch of down and outs, talking smack and smoking...weed and I left the best part of my brain in high school, (I'm still just retrieving parts of it now).

I used to blame my failings on anything and everyone else. A bunch of dickheads that made me take drugs, made me drop out of school and made me give up on my career. But, the truth is, I was the failure.

I am the failure.

I had some success with writing when I was 10 years old. It started with a simple poem about being in a hot air balloon in the sky. Looking down at the world like they were 'Nothing but ants'. My nan read my poem and couldn't believe I had written it. My poet status began there and continued into my teen years.

I was a high achiever at school, I did everything I was supposed to do and I continued to write for fun at home. I won poet of the year for 3 years in a row until I was 14 and I even got invited to Las Vegas to collect an award, (Just a little brag geez).

But the failures soon began after meeting a certain ex. Now I am not going to go on about him, after all he has had all of the airtime I wish to give him. My failures are my own and I will own them without any claim to failure from him.

Fast forward 13 years, to a new relationship, a kid, an abundance of pets, stretchmarks and 10,000 dirty socks later and you land on yours truly. A 30 year old overweight, messy haired, big titty, athletically lazy, animal loving, unemployed, loveable failure. I write as often as I can but it never seems to be enough. I apply to 20 writing jobs a day, I freelance blog (occasionally) I start stories, I don't finish them, I publish shit novels and I crave self-worth. I secretly think I'm not good enough and yet I know deep down I am. I get praised and feel lied to and I get no acknowledgement and I call the world a bastard.

My conviction is often matched by my ability but the real reason for my failures are not because of my talent or lack of. No, I have simply come to understand the reason for my failures is due to my heart. I don't feel I deserve to succeed. The truth is, I made some decisions that have affected the way I think and the way I love now. And those decisions in short have lead to me questioning my worth.

I mean of course I'm fucking fabulous, fat arse and all but I'm not ignorant...I know where I have gone wrong.

I lost my drive to succeed, I lost my drive and replaced it with simple conviction. But what is conviction without backbone? What is talent without an audience to show it to? How can I walk a mile let alone a thousand if I take 1 step forward and pause for a turn while every other writer takes 2 steps forward?

The truth is, I'm only just learning how not to be a failure again. Through learning, work, writing and love. I gave up all of those things that took my drive away. And finally, I handed myself the wheel again. And slowly, I'm cementing myself firmly in the drivers seat. It's heavy, it's scary but strangely familiar.

So while I self pity, rebuild, cry, pull myself up and learn to self love again, I tell myself that It's ok to be a failure because at least I'm trying, at least I'm finally running with the rest of the marathon... even if I'm at the back.

And most importantly, at least I'm not a dickhead.

Thank you very much for reading my writing and taking the time to support my work. If you have enjoyed what you have read, I would appreciate the love. If you're feeling extra generous, how about a tip?