It’s the morning, and I’m thinking about my day and wondering how I want to show up in the world. To be honest, lately I’ve been spending too much time watching the news and thinking about all the changes that have happened in the world, in my life, in the lives of the people I work with daily. Yes, if you read my last blog post, I’m an over thinker.

There’s a story running in my head right now. It’s a story of everyday failures—those small, frustrating moments where things don’t go as planned.

We all carry inner narrators. They interpret our experiences, name our worth, and shape the way we see ourselves. And this week, in so many sessions, the stories have been heavy.

There’s a story running in your head right now. Maybe it’s the inner critic, loud and insistent: "You’re a failure. You always mess things up." Or maybe it’s quieter, a whisper of shame: "You’re a disappointment. No one says it, but they feel it."  

These thoughts aren’t just fleeting. They feel real. They sound true. So many of us have internalized that if something falls apart—plans, relationships, expectations—we must be the problem. We are the failure. We are the disappointment.

What If These Feelings Were More Than Just Feelings?

What if failure and disappointment were just signs that something mattered deeply? Not final chapters but turning points. Not flaws but fragile feelings. And now, the story running through my head is an actual story, a short story.

Second Chances & Could-Have-Beens: A Human Story

Once upon a morning, two lonely wanderers crossed paths.

One of them carried a purse full of second chances. Her name was Failure.

The other carried a backpack full of could-have-beens. His name was Disappointment.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Failure said, “You look familiar.”

“You too,” Disappointment replied, lowering his eyes.

Unsure of what to say next, Failure whispered, “I left home.”

“Me too,” Disappointment nodded. “Everyone kept looking at me like I ruined everything.”

“Same,” Failure sighed. “I thought I was the reason dreams died. Every time someone stumbled, they said I’d wrecked it.”

“I always show up when things matter most,” Disappointment said quietly. “But no one sees that. They just blame me for caring.”

Failure tilted her head. “You cared?”

“Of course. Disappointment only happens when something matters—when someone hopes, or believes, or tries.”

Failure looked down and said, “I thought I was the absence of hope.”

“No,” Disappointment said gently. “You’re proof of effort. You only arrive when someone dares to try.”

They were silent for a while, letting the truth settle between them.

Finally, Failure quietly said, “You know, maybe we’re not who they think we are. Maybe we’ve just been misunderstood.”

In the that moment, they saw each other in the brutal, beautiful story of life.

Failure, the brave one who shows up when courage dares to act.

Disappointment, the tender-hearted one who appears when things matter enough to hurt.

And maybe, maybe there’s a place in your life for both.

You’re Not Alone in This Chapter

We often meet Failure and Disappointment in our own lives—and most days, we wish they’d go away. But if we slow down, we might realize something: Failure only shows up when we take a risk. Disappointment only visits when something matters deeply.

To be human is to want, to hope, to care—and inevitably, to be let down at times. That doesn’t make you a disappointment. That makes you real. Failure and Disappointment may visit, but they don’t get to write the ending. You do!