Mindset of Tomorrow

Failure and Counting the Candles

What is it about the mind that gives us such a photographic memory when it comes to our failures?

I can remember being in a church play and tripping on stage. I can remember the girls who told me, “Don’t even bother.” I can remember getting in trouble in first grade. I can remember the countless jobs I didn’t get and the interviews where I went 0 for 25.

Why do those memories stick so tightly? There has to be something about the brain that makes us remember our mistakes more vividly than our victories.

But here’s the danger: if you spend all your time reflecting on your losses, your losses become your identity. And when failure becomes your identity, it shows up everywhere. It weakens your confidence. It changes the way you walk, the way you talk, and the way you see yourself. Eventually, you start wearing your failures like a dunce cap, carrying them everywhere you go.

So how do you get out of it? What’s the secret formula for accepting that screw-ups happen?

The truth is, there will be more screw-ups. More blunders. More moments that make you cringe years later. You may never completely forget them. But you have to realize that those moments are part of the journey, not the definition of who you are.

One of the ways I’ve learned to transform low self-confidence is something I call counting the candles.

Count the candles.

Right now, I’m 45 years old, going on 46. For 45 years, the universe has allowed me to breathe, to love, to create, to reproduce, and to grow. So maybe I’m 0 for 25 in interviews. Maybe people have laughed at me or talked behind my back. But when I count the candles, I realize something important:

I’m 45 and 0.

I’m undefeated.

Because I’m still here.

I still have another opportunity to get better. Another chance to try again. Another day to exist, to grow, and to prove myself—not to others, but to myself.

Low self-esteem is a strange thing. It can make you envy the winners because they keep winning. It can also make you envy the losers because at least they have something to complain about. But life isn’t about either category. Life is about continuing to compete.

When you’re dead, the competition is over. You’ve earned the title of never having to try again. And maybe that’s why some people give up on themselves. They decide they would rather avoid the possibility of failure than continue competing.

But I’d rather compete.

I like the freedom of choice.

My mother once told me, “It’s free will.” I have the free will to make choices. Maybe not always the best choices, but I have the freedom to keep trying. To keep failing. To keep learning. To keep growing.

And maybe we don’t tell each other enough about the good things.

I’ve started talking to myself differently. I’ve started repeating positive affirmations. I’ve started texting my friends and family just to say, “Hey, I’m checking on you.”

Because maybe encouragement isn’t a reward for perfection.

Maybe people do need a cookie sometimes.

Maybe a kind word, a reminder, or a simple “I’m proud of you” is exactly what helps someone keep competing.

And as long as I’m breathing, as long as another candle can be added to the cake, I refuse to let my failures write my story.

I’ll keep counting the candles. R.A. Spence