Failure is not the opposite of success. It might just be the opposite of nothing.

It is what happens when we try to do something that matters, inevitably falling short of the unreasonably high expectation we have set for ourselves: utter perfection.

We are taught to treat failure as a detour, an experience we must endure and suffer through, so that we might one day spin a story of perseverance and redemption.

Failure builds character, sharpens resilience, fuels growth, or so we are told. But this tidy narrative ignores who gets the luxury of failing safely, and who does not.

Without safety nets, whether that be economic, emotional or social, failure does not lead to growth, only to further marginalisation and exclusion.

We rarely admit this.

Instead, we fold failure into myths and cultural narratives about resurrection and triumph, of people who fail today, but succeed tomorrow.

But not all stories end in success, and not all failure is in need of being transcended.

Sometimes, failure is just what it is.

A silence. A missed opportunity. A door that remains closed.

This is because failure does not need to be understood as some fixed point in time, or some plot point in the arc of life.

It can also be understood as a feeling, a sensation, a pattern that we live inside.

It is the niceness that seems forced. It is the sobriety that feels fragile. It is the friendship that never quite lands.

My life has been almost constant failure. But the value of a high fuck-up quotient lies in not wasting the feeling, but rather inhabiting it, for as long as I need.

Failure is not meaningless. It is the state we occupy while searching for meaning. It is about sticking with the feeling longer than others might, to truly figure it out, and come to some deeper understanding.

From this perspective, failure is not something to be resolved or overcome, but rather something to humble us and direct our awareness to those things in most need of our attention and care.

It is not a weakness. It is what makes us human.

There is no need to rescue failure from shame. Rather, we need to get more comfortable in sitting with it, so it has space to ask meaningful questions.

We must listen and respond with tenderness.