Fear, Risk, Failure and Reward

Fear of success seems like an absurd idea. Who wouldn't want to be successful? Judging from the choices I've made, me. Over the years, the biggest element of my failures have been my fears. I've been afraid to try things. I've been afraid to really try to succeed. Everyone has had that moment when to take a step forward is impossible. Or seems impossible. I know that I have not acted on many opportunities because it was easier and less intimidating to let it pass, and continue with things as they are than to take a chance and succeed or fail. 

I've let good relationships die because I couldn't bring myself to step up and try to make them better. I've had job opportunities dry up because I couldn't suck up enough courage to try something that I might or might not be any good at. It's always been easier to fail by not trying than to fail by trying too hard. Fear of ridicule, fear of being different, fear of having attention or the spotlight.

It's not all been failures, though. I had the opportunity to work overseas, and I took it. I had a contract job over the summer of 1999 in Copenhagen, Denmark. I quit a job that I was becoming reasonably competent in, got a passport, packed a suitcase and went. I arrived in a city where I couldn't read the signs or speak the language. I started a project in a programming language I had only a small amount of experience in, writing an application in a problem-space I had only read about, for an industry I knew nothing about.

I left every comfortable situation behind. Did I succeed?

Ultimately, no. I did pretty well on the project. It did what I designed it to do, and the client seemed pretty happy about it. But the personal cost to my mind and spirit is something I am continuing to pay, to this day. The months of loneliness, for someone whose natural tendency is to be alone, made that natural tendency turn into a full-blown depression. The idea of risk, adventure and novelty was more than I could stand. When I came back, I withdrew into myself. I made it clear that in no way would I do anything like that again. That was one of the first wedges I drove into my marriage. I withdrew from everything I used to enjoy because being out and about was too risky.

Fear of success is now something I need to confront in my personal life. For the first time, ever, as an adult, I'm looking at the dating world, the world of relationships again. I met my wife when I was 19. I had always been shy and had no confidence in myself. So I didn't date much at all in High School. When we got married at the age of 20, part of me was relieved. I didn't have to look anymore. I found and got the person that I would spend the rest of my life with. I loved her, she loved me, we started a family. We spent many years raising our kids, teaching them to follow Jesus. 

All that came crashing down when she made it clear that she didn't love me, maybe never had, and that she didn't see any point in continuing to patch things up, and get our marriage right with each other and with God.

So now, the only thing pending is a judge's signature on a piece of paper. 

How does this relate to fear? Well, as I said, I've never dated as an adult. I don't know how it works. I've never considered myself attractive, and the perfect storm of genetics, life-style, and middle age have left me in the position of feeling that it is perhaps best if I don't try to meet anyone new. Perhaps I should just accept that a relationship is something I had, for awhile, but is not something I should seek again. After all, who would want a broken down, middle-aged, balding, paunchy guy who couldn't keep his marriage together? Trying would be an exercise in failure, so it's best to not try.

That was my thinking for quite some time. That is not my thinking now. The facts have not changed. I am balding. I'm carrying a few pounds more than I'd like, and it's all in a beer gut. I'm socially awkward, fearful, and currently financially wrecked. But I also know that God did not create me to be alone, and that is what I have been for the last several years. It's been 3 years since there was any tenderness in my marriage, and several years before that since it was genuine.

I'm scared. I'm also eager. But I don't have any idea how to proceed. The easy road, the one that leads to safety is so very tempting. All I need to do is do nothing. There is no risk of failure if I make no effort at all. It's not so bad, dying alone, is it?

Yes, it is. So I have to take the risk. I don't have any idea how or where to start. But I know that a better life is waiting for me. It's hard to say that, because I thought I had the best. But that's proven to not be true. 

I'm a pretty quick learner. I'll try. I'm scared, but I'll try.