In the substack, I talked about how what looks like success from the outside feels from inside the daily process: shit. At the time of writing, I had been shaken by the realization that I fail more than anyone I know. I was horribly insecure about the fact that I, someone about to start their sixth year of their PhD, had still not managed to publish any peer-reviewed articles despite having been trying since 2020.

Consider this a status update on all of that- both in terms of what has developed in the past 7 months or so, and in terms of my philosophy on the matter of personal success.

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Amidst the raging current of life, it’s hard to process misfortune in the moment without getting pulled under. At the time, I was also (and still am) a struggling and frustrated PhD candidate and a stressed small business owner. I didn’t have time to break my stride long enough to process all of this at once, if that’s even possible. Today, I want to take the time and space to take a look back.

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Yet, I found myself in a university bathroom stall struggling to contain my tears, snot, and sobs. I was fresh off of a stage surrounded by beautiful murals from which I had lectured a room full of students. But none of that was what was on my mind. I had had the realization that I fail more than anyone else I know.

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My First Failure (and subsequent fall from grace)

I used to believe that success was a direct product of effort with a little bit of luck and talent mixed in. This mindset served me well through high school, and I achieved all the goals I had put in place. I was a successful athlete and an even more successful student. I was well-liked by (most of) my peers. I had a healthy dating and social life.

My first big failure came when I discovered the upper limit of my theory that effort had a 1:1 relationship with success. As it turns out, your body and other circumstances can complicate things quite a bit.

What happened, you ask? Well, I caught the yips- both athletically and socially.

The yips are basically a disease of athletic talent where your body suddenly stops cooperating with what you want it to do. For me, it started when I was just 16. When throwing the discus, my wrist began to pique right at the time of release, sending the discus into a dive bomb shortly after leaving my hand. I would have good days and bad days, but by the time I was 20, I was lucky to break 100 feet- a distance I used to warm up at when I was 15.1

At the same time that I was getting worse at throwing, regardless of how much I practiced or how generally nice my throw looked, I was also absolutely tanking in my college social experience.

Upon joining, I was ecstatic to finally have a team. To meet a host of new people who would share my interests. The “college friends” I would talk about for the rest of my life.

Upon arriving, it took me a year to understand that that would not be happening. Where friendships had historically come easily to me, I could not seem to make a single true friend on the team. One day, I came to the startling realization that my “best friend” on the team was also the meanest person I had ever allowed to stay in my life.

There were a few reasons people didn’t like me. Some thought I was gay. Some found out I wasn’t Christian. Others just thought I was annoying. Comments included a daily mix of “nobody wants you here,” “you’re so annoying,” and “I’d kill myself if I were you.” I learned to just not talk at practice. I learned just how frequent the gatherings where everyone but me was invited were. I learned that some of the men on the team had a group chat where they sent the pictures I posted and discussed how ugly I was.

I’m not telling you all of this because I want you to feel bad for me. After years of therapy (both physical and mental), I’m mostly over it. Rather, I am telling you about my tumble down the other side of the mountain I’d carefully built out of solid effort to illustrate my point: there will always be factors outside of your control. 2

What does success mean? Is it defined against failure? Or rather, does success necessitate failure?

What I learned from those three hard years in college is that success is not a byproduct of effort, though effort is and will always be an incredibly important ingredient.

How I Fail More Than Anyone I Know

So then, with that background, we can return to me snotting up a bathroom stall at age 25. Despite everything that had happened in college, I still always had my academics. I understood that school was hard, but that I was smart and hard-working and therefore would get through it. Until I didn’t.

You see, I’d just received a particularly brutal article rejection. I had recently conducted an entire study to discern why I was so uncomfortable at the gym now that I was no longer an athlete, despite having more experience than most of the people there. I was proud of the resulting article, and, after a few years of work, I decided to submit it for review.

After waiting months to hear back, I got the email. I anxiously opened it as soon as I finished my lecture to find that my article had been rejected. This wasn’t the first (or last) article rejection I’d received, but the reviewers had all but called me an idiot. Somehow, my writing was simultaneously “chaotic,” “cumbersome,” and “convoluted.” Worse, they said that the study I carried so close to my heart, that had helped me understand the pain I was experiencing in the wake of my college experience, was basically useless. They said the methodology and analyses were “weak” and that findings “largely echoe[d] established knowledge.” I began to spiral, pinned under the weight all of my failures over the past year.

My academic failures ~2023-present

• I’ve submitted academic articles at least seven times and have gotten brutally rejected each time. I still haven’t managed to publish anything despite entering my 6th year of my PhD.

• Literally nobody other than my friend showed up for my big conference presentation- not even the other presenters.

• I didn’t get into the research program that was perfect for me and my interests… and would’ve let me go to Sweden.

• I got a serious verbal spanking for the way I thought I was supposed to do my prospectus defense- and may have almost actually failed

• I didn’t get the big user experience research internship I made it through all the rounds of interviews for (and told a bunch of people I thought I was going to get)

• I applied for a teaching award, thinking I was a shoe in, and didn’t get it

• I didn’t get either of the big grants I applied for in 2024

From my perspective in the bathroom stall, nobody else was failing this much. Everyone else either wasn’t trying to publish or was doing so successfully. And had research funding. And was adored by their higher-ups. Or at least had some cool opportunities. As my advisor put it (prior to several of these failures):

At the time, I took it as encouragement, but now it feels more like a warning. One time he also told me maybe I’d be better with a lobotomy.

Perseverance

Effort, talent, and luck aren’t the only ingredients to success: so is perseverance. When I lamented my failures to my friends, a couple of them said that actually, I wasn’t a giant failure; it’s just that everyone else was too insecure to broadcast all their failures. It was a burden everyone else was keeping secret in order to preserve an image of success. They said it was refreshing to see someone air out their failure, and after some recent experiences, I have to agree.

I witnessed two things this month: Ginger Minj winning season 10 of Rupaul’s Drag Race Allstars and Kesha performing live on her own record label.

Ginger Minj is a 40 year old American drag queen. Over the course of a decade, she competed in four different seasons of Rupaul’s Drag Race (and Drag Race Allstars). She was well loved in every season and landed work like world tours and a role in Hocus Pocus 2. She had success, but she had only failed in reaching the goal that set that success in motion. As such, her successes might have felt like consolations for failure despite many likely being “larger” than winning a reality TV show.

Ginger Minj returned to season 10 of Rupaul’s Drag Race All Stars this year for one last attempt at winning. She recently shared with the Gay Times that she feels she understands herself better now than ever before, and it showed in her grace on the show. She refused to engage in petty drama and moved with confidence and unbounded love. Her growth as a person was palpable; you don’t get that balanced without many preceding falls.

This is what made Ginger’s triumph so enjoyable.3 She was never an underdog, and her career didn’t need the win- but it was evident that the audience was watching a hole in her heart be filled. In this way, the feeling of success is not a ration, a get-what-you-get-and-dont-throw-a-fit occasion, or “just be thankful for what you have” situation. It’s a destination to be personally met only after summiting a grueling series of failures.

I also went to a Kesha concert. For those who aren’t familiar, Kesha has had quite the ride. In 2005, Kesha signed with Dr. Luke’s label at age 18. The next month, he [allegedly] drugged and assaulted her. She called her mom after and told her that she didn’t want to be known as a victim; she just wanted to sing and get her music out.

After five years, she took off in 2009 with Tik Tok, but things remained turbulent behind the scenes. Eventually, Dr. Luke’s sexual and physical abuse landed Kesha in an inpatient eating disorder treatment in 2014, where she told doctors what was going on.

Later that year, she filed a lawsuit against him, sharing more details of her abuse and its effects on her mental health. One time, she ran barefoot down a highway to escape him. She mostly just wanted to be released from her record deal, but Dr. Luke fanned the flames with a defamation countersuit.

A judge denied Kesha’s release from her contract with Dr. Luke, saying that she could just record without his direct involvement. Other musicians sided with Kesha; Taylor Swift even donated $250k to help with her legal bills. Kelly Clarkson, who had also worked with Dr. Luke, came out saying he is “not a good guy.” Pink concurred. Gaga even testified in 2019.

After a failed appeal, Kesha dropped the suit and delivered 28 self-financed songs to her label, but Dr. Luke was blocking all her music and payments. In 2017, she finally released her first song since the lawsuit, “Praying,” and announced her next record. The music video opens with a heartbreaking voice-over monologue:

In the video, the version of her thinking these things envisions the future the song takes place in, one where she isn’t fully healed, but where she is free. This gives her the strength to keep going.

Keep going she did, releasing another album for the record label she was still trying to escape in 2020. It wasn’t until March of 2024, a decade after the initial lawsuit, that Kesha was cleared to release music without them.

She now has her own record label, a #1 charting album, and a new app meant to promote safety and transparency in the music industry. I attended her incredibly popular Tits Out tour in Clarkston, MI. On that night, she cried at the sight of the gigantic crowd giving her a standing ovation and asked an audience member to borrow their phone so she could take a video to remember forever, saying she felt like this was a peak in her life.

The concert was produced to portray her journey- from energetic renditions of early party hits4 to a reference to her institutionalization and her manhandling by the industry in the Fine Line prelude and performance. She brought the night to a powerful close with the below rendition of Praying.

I was not alone in the crowd in feeling that I could relate to her tribulations and take inspiration from her triumph. If the idea of herself being free one day was what kept her going in the Praying music video, her finally being free fueled thousands to keep going in whatever battle they were fighting (even if “the battle” is just against mean academics).

The entire night dripped of freedom and happiness. Her pride and gratitude were palpable. If from Ginger’s triumph I learned that feeling success might require overcoming your most painful failure, from Kesha’s I learned that circumstance is nothing to unrelenting, blind perseverance.

There are some things we cannot overcome; systemic or even luck-related barriers will get in the way. But so goes the old adage, “fall down 10 times, get up 11.”

We don’t expect to not fall again. Falling 5 times and getting up 6 turns in to falling down 6 times and getting up 7. The learned helplessness of staying down is where we experience true failure. Success is still standing up one more time.

To this effect, we have to keep trying even if we don’t know things will work out. This could be for ourselves and our personal goals, or it could be for the betterment of the world. The only way things will work out is if we keep trying. In the case of large-scale problems, we might not even get to see the payoff… But that doesn’t make trying not a success.

I hope you got something out of reading this far! If you did, let me know in a comment or encourage me to write more by liking or buying me a coffee. And if you really liked it, become a free or paid subscriber! Paid subscribers get 1 extra little essay a month.

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In 2013, the world watched in exaggerated horror as the American Darling they’d gotten to know over her 7 year tenure as Hannah Montana bent over suggestively in front of Robin Thicke.1 Discourse exploded as the public wondered why oh why their sweet daughter of Sir Achy Breaky Heart would do such a thing. Memes comparing her butt during the performance to a raw chicken still haunt me when I try on bikinis.

Some theorized that Miley had put on such a “bat-shit insane” performance on such a large stage as a humiliation ritual. According to conspiracy theorists, the rich and famous participate in humiliation rituals as a gateway to Illuminati (or other cult) acceptance and the acquisition of even more accolades. Here are some more popular examples of rumored humiliation rituals:

1. Various male celebrities wearing dresses

2. Various female celebrities (Britney Spears, Katy Perry, etc.) shaving their heads or cutting their hair short.

3. The Kanye and Taylor Swift VMAs incident from 2009

4. Tom Holland’s 2017 gender bending Umbrella lip sync

5. DaBaby wearing a diaper on stage in 2018

6. The Will Smith/Chris Rock slap in 2022

7. John Cena’s naked 2024 Oscars appearance

What if I told you that, by my own experience, I think they’re sort of on to something?

By “they,” I mean the celebrities doing these embarrassing things, not the conspiracy theorists. Frankly, I don’t think any of these common examples are humiliating enough to be symbolic of selling your soul. I also think most, if not all, of these supposed “humiliation rituals” are in line with the celebrities’ overall brands and trajectories. I can’t pretend to be privy to the inner workings of celebrity, but if there is a nefarious undercurrent, wearing a dress or getting a haircut seems like small potatoes.

Rather, I think that the celebrities are on to something. That “something” is that pushing our boundaries can help facilitate growth of many kinds and lead to a (metaphorically) richer life.

This theory of mine has two main components: (1) doing odd things can add value to one’s life, and (2) you have to be pushing your own boundaries. Let’s discuss my experience with each as a case study of this logic.

Being Odd

Many people have told me at all stages of my life that they admire how I am always unapologetically myself. The truth is, most of the time this is a bit funny to me. I have never known how to be anyone else. I do think that there is a certain bravery to being yourself at times, though, especially as you get older and your cultural socialization has really cemented.

Basically, socialization is how we learn how to be a person within our culture. Interactions with family, media, institutions, etc. all slowly but effectively mold us into relatively similar beings within a culture. We know things like the polite amount of personal space to give someone and that hurting others is immoral. Many times, embarrassment arises from the perception that we have broken this mold, or at least others think we did. Through being odd, we reveal some sort of departure from socialization. This is why some would expect wearing a dress to be humiliating for a man and shaving one’s head to be humiliating to a woman: these practices directly subvert gendered socialization.

However, being yourself, and by extension sometimes being odd, means being particularly in tune with what you want rather than what has been prescribed to you. When we identify a discrepancy between what we want and what we have been socialized to do, we can make a calculated decision of how to proceed for maximum benefit. When assimilation is prioritized, the “normal” option will always be the right choice. When self-actualization is prioritized, however, sometimes being odd is necessary.

An example of how this process works for me much of the time:

In summer 2020,2 I was working as a server at a popular restaurant in my hometown. My hometown happens to be a popular tourist town, so we occasionally get celebrities there, but the restaurant I worked for was mainstream enough that they usually didn’t visit it.

As such, imagine my surprise when THE David Henrie and several of his family members were sat in my section one evening. I spent hundreds of hours of my childhood watching him on Wizards of Waverly Place. I’d even identified with his character: the smart but tightly wound older brother. This was my first time meeting a celebrity I was a fan of, but I knew I was meant to be professional and do my job without bothering him and his family. A conflict between self and expectation arose.

The good news was that I knew he wasn’t going anywhere. I had time to calculate what to do. Should I be completely professional and pretend not to know who he is? Or would that be rude? Do I immediately introduce myself as a fan? Or would that ruin their dinner? I realized that, at my core, I would regret it I decided to play it cool. I also decided that there was value in remaining professional and allowing this individual space. As a result, I decided to both remain professional and give a gift to my 8 year old self: I would serve them just as I would any other table, make sure to cash them out, then reveal I was a fan.3

It was a bonus that this could make for a funny story even if it ended in disaster. With this knowledge, I convinced and encouraged myself to be completely authentic in my big reveal despite knowing how embarrassing it would be. I had calculated that the embarrassment would be worth it to my development as a more fully realized version of myself, or at least as a someday old lady with amazing stories.

And so, my feet carried me forcefully to the Henrie table after they had paid but before they were trying to leave. I was already red in the face as I approached the table to pick up their signed receipt and remove some dishes. I stopped awkwardly, having not really planned this far, and announced, “I have a confession.”

Of course, this got everyone’s attention, and they probably knew where I was going with it since I was staring right at David. The eyes of his brother, sister in law, mother, father, and wife turned toward me as the table’s children carried on with their activities. My voice slightly shaking, I word vomited something along the lines of: “I didn’t want to ruin your dinner, but I knew I would regret it if I didn’t take this chance to tell you you were my first crush. I loved Wizards of Waverly Place as a kid.” A heartening mix of “aww” and laughter broke out around the table, and I was relieved to see in his wife’s face that perhaps this particular fan introduction would become a story for them too! David Henrie then asked me for a picture, and we stood up and took one. He discovered I was a local, and he asked me some questions about the housing market and places to visit. Cognizant of my job and his family’s time, I soon said goodbye and walked away proud of my bravery.

Obviously, admitting you had a crush on a man in front of his wife, mother, and child is an incredibly odd choice. It went against several facets of my socialization, yet I full heartedly believe it was the right choice. Looking back five years later, I would regret it if I hadn’t done it, and its a funny story! Embarrassing does not always mean wrong.4

Boundaries

In addition to the value in being odd, it is important to recognize the origin of these “humiliation ritual” urges. Something might be embarrassing but worth doing in some way, but do you actually want to?

This is a major point of departure between actual humiliation rituals as conspiracy theorists discuss them and my own practice of being myself. Humiliation rituals are thought to be imposed on people to initiate ego death and solidify loyalty, but I do not see much value in doing embarrassing things because someone told me to or convinced me to.

For example, I am known to really cut it up on the dance floor. I like to move my body to music, and I like to do whatever feels right. My thought process is that 100% always looks better than 40%, even if your (my) 100% is not particularly… good. I draw a lot more attention to myself than I would if I relied on the safe sort of bobbing and swaying motions background actors do in club scenes in movies, and I am sure that not all or even most of the attention is in admiration. However, I have noticed that when I do “background actor dancing,” I actually feel more insecure. This is because, although I am dancing more palatably, I am dancing for the gaze of others rather than the feeling it brings me. I decide to put my fun above the threat of judgment by others.

Despite this small humiliation ritual I do every time I hit a dance floor, I do not appreciate being shoved onto a stage or the middle of a dance circle. Other people are not invited to push my boundaries for me. I dance for the feeling it gives me, not the consumption of others. Being pushed into the spotlight subverts that dynamic, and I don’t personally get anything more out of being watched.

In this way, then, you must make sure that your “humiliation” serves you, not whoever is watching. Otherwise, are you growing? Or are you doing a cheap service?

Cringe but Free

Reading people’s actions as embarrassing or even humiliating is just a fancy way of making it about you. The assumption is that they feel the same way in that situation that you would if you were in it, but this fails to account for the individualism “cringe” behaviors might actualize. In extension of this logic, you can be yourself without it being embarrassing, and it might actually help you grow. What do you want to do? What feels good? Would it do harm? Or is the only harm a bit of embarrassment?

Other ways to support me: like, comment, share, or buy me a coffee!

None of this is really important- its just my claim to authority on the matter of picking out things that give me hope. Many days I fail. Many days I’m depressed. Most days I encounter catastrophe. Most days I’m worried. Therefore, its really great when things shine through. Especially when recently its felt like the world is falling apart.

Today, then, I want to share with you some things that have broken through my mental ailments to give me some hope this spring. I hope they have the same effect on you.

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