Getting Good at Doing Things Badly
A former gifted kid learns to embrace failure
Recently, my partner and I were looking at astrology memes on Instagram. Examining social media stereotypes of our respective signs remains one of our primary methods of introspecting as a couple. We’d just finished roasting him for being a Pisces, and had moved on to examining the traits that supposedly befit me, an Aries. One of the first traits listed was “competitive.”
I scoffed. “I’m not competitive.”
He shot me a look.
“What?” I said. “I’m not. I’m not competitive. Unless I’m sure I’m going to win.”
My partner squinted and pursed his lips, a surefire signal that I was about to be called on my bullshit.
“Only being competitive when you think you’re going to win is competitive,” he said. “That’s just about the most competitive thing you could say.”
“What? No it’s not,” I protested. “I’m like the least competitive person in the world.”
That, of course, was also a very competitive-sounding declaration. By then I knew I’d lost the argument.
Now, if the issue is raised, I will concede that I am competitive, but that I’m also very fragile — I hate failing at things. I don’t like playing games I might lose. If…
