failure

I finally know what actual failure is. Real rejection. Up until now if I’m honest, I haven’t ever experienced the real thing. I was always the teacher’s pet, graduated No. 3 in my class, got accepted to Auburn, became an RA, made the Plainsman staff, got scholarships, etc.
But this year, I’m finding out I’m not really all that.
I didn’t make it to the final interview with Teach for America, my section in the newspaper is lackluster, I was entered in a journalism contest and didn’t place and I have e-mailed tons of newspapers asking about jobs, and none of them have responded.
So what does this mean?
Am I depressed? No, not really.
Do I feel worthless? Not usually.

I’m pretty sure all this failure is showing me where I find my self-worth, and it’s not in being the best or landing the perfect job.
It’s in relationships– with God, with friends, with my family, with my coworkers, with my boyfriend– I am happiest when these relationships are healthy. I am happiest when I’m making others’ lives more meaningful and when my life is more meaningful because of them.

Maybe I’ll end up working at some crappy paper wherever my engineer husband gets a job. Maybe I’ll also be a great mom. Maybe life isn’t about money, climbing ladders or being the best. It’s about caring about people and being who God’s created me to be.

Screw you and your expectations, society.