My daughter and I have been reading about what happens after the “happily ever after” in the fairy tale of Snow White and the Evil Queen. The author tells the Evil Queen’s back story of tragedy and how she became vengeful enough to try to poison her own step-daughter.  As the story evolves, the Evil Queen slowly changes and is redeemed by becoming a hero in the story.  

Failure is the Middle of our story

I have been thinking about this idea in relation to our lives and failing.  Sometimes I think when we fail we think it’s the end of the story.  We tried, we failed.  End of story. 

But the best part of any story is the second half.  How the character changes, improves and is succeeds.  When we look at failure as the end of the story, there isn’t much more to tell.  We quit. Or we languish in discouragement. We are stuck.  How would things change if we looked at failure as the middle of our story instead of the end?  

In other words, what if we viewed our failure as just one of the small stepping stones to getting to where we hope to go and becoming who we know we’re capable of?

Let me illustrate this idea by sharing a very personal experience.

Diagnosis and “Failure”

My mother was diagnosed with depression when I was 18.  I remember coming home from college the summer after my freshman year and my mom explaining her diagnosis.  She was relieved to finally have an explanation for how she felt for the last few years, however she also struggled with deep guilt about how she had functioned and behaved during her depression.  

She wasn’t guilty of any terrible crimes—but she hadn’t been the mom she wanted to be.  She yelled sometimes, she got easily overwhelmed.  She wasn’t as present and involved as she might have been if she was healthy. She asked my siblings and I to do more babysitting, errand running and cooking than we wanted to.  In her mind, she had failed.  I remember the night my parents called us together one evening and told she told us she felt that she had failed us as a mom because of her depression. 

The Burden of “Failure”Looking Back

Later she wrote, “I will always feel badly about the burden this created for each of you in the family as I was struggling to cope with life during this time.  I will never forget the night Dad called all of you into the living room and shared this with you.  I felt like I had failed the family.  I felt I had let everybody down including myself and the Lord.”  

She had noticed the gap between where she was and where she wanted to be.  And, it felt terrible because she was thinking about her diagnosis of depression and her past behavior as an ending—as if the story was all told.  From that place she felt stuck.  Whatever had been written was done.  

The Middle Not the End

But the story wasn’t all told.  It wasn’t the end of her story, it was only the middle. As she discovered this, she found that it shifted how she felt and behaved.  

She was able to get some medication.  She began counseling.  And, she began to do some work sorting through some unhealthy ways of thinking about herself and the world.  As she embarked on this process, she began to feel better.  

She wrote, “But as the ensuing weeks and months passed, I got the needed help and I experienced the power of the atonement in my life.  I felt the Lord literally lift the burden of my mind, the hurts of my heart, and plant in me a new mind and heart.  As I did my part to work at it, He certainly made up more than the difference, and to this day—years later I have not once gone back to those old patters.  He truly changed me.  He also taught me that I had not failed my family in being imperfect, but that my example of working through difficult challenges with His help would be a blessing to them in time.”  

God helped her see that this was NOT the end of her story.  This was the middle.  

The Rest of the Story

Let me tell you the rest of the story.  As she healed from depression, she began to share some of her journey with others who struggled.  Many people were touched by her experience.  She also shared some of the tools that had been powerful for her in healing.  She even did some workshops to groups of women who wanted to learn more.  But most important was how it impacted me and my siblings.  

Some of us did feel exhausted and even frustrated with the additional burden created by her depression.  I was at college but some of my sisters experienced more of the brunt of the load.  However, over time many of us have discovered our own experience with depression.  

The Sequel of “Diagnosis and Failure”

In my mid-twenties I realized I wasn’t myself.  I was irritable, and anxious and couldn’t make decisions.  Everything seemed difficult and frustrating.  It was a dark time for me.  It was scary and overwhelming.  I was worried about my ability to function and how my behavior and feelings were affecting my own relationships.  In many ways I felt like I had failed.  

Eventually I was diagnosed with depression.  I called my mother.  I knew she knew.  But even more powerful than her presence and advice was her journey.  I knew there was hope.  I knew I didn’t have to feel this way forever and that there was help because I had seen HER journey through this difficult experience.  She didn’t stop.  She didn’t give up.  She kept going and trying.  

I did get help.  I found medication and counseling and some amazing tools from Life Coaching.  But it was hard.  And sometimes I slipped back into depression.  But her “failure” and her journey out of it, was the primary thing that gave me hope and endurance to continue on my own journey of difficult healing.  It helped me see that this was only the middle of my story—not the end.  

The End of Her Story was the Middle of Mine

The end of her story was the middle of mine. It was the lynchpin of my healing. I have indeed been blessed by her “failures” as she hoped.   

Even though I was feeling better, I worried about all the failed exchanges in my own relationships that felt like failures.  What made the situation feel like a failure was thinking about it as an ending.  I worried I had ruined my children because I had yelled and been irritable.  I worried that I had damaged my marriage and set in place patterns that were unchangeable. But those were lies.  The story wasn’t over.  

When the Ending Becomes A Middle…It’s Not a Failure

It wasn’t lost on me that I was repeating the same patterns for a second generation.  One day, I thinking about this and decided enough is enough. We’ve had enough suffering in our family.  I realized that just as my mom’s “failure” was really a huge triumph and a significant blessing for me, that maybe my “failure” could be a blessing for my husband and children and others.  As I began to look at my depression as only the middle of my story instead of the end I was able to begin to see it NOT as a failure at all.  

Over time I have been able to teach my daughters better ways of thinking so they can see the world in a healthier way.  And in fact, what I originally viewed as a “failure” has become one of my greatest strengths. I have learned how to be more emotionally resilient and how to help my daughters become so as well.  

I’m still in the middle of my story.  There is more to write.  When I remember this, it puts my mistakes in context.  When my “failures” become the middle of my story instead of the ending it changes how I see them.  From my perspective now, they are not failures anymore plot twists that make the story richer.   And, not only does it all work out, the failures often create the most powerful parts of the story and are the very things that allow me to become who I am meant to become.  

How to Stop Failing

There is a powerful lesson in this.  The only thing that makes failure, failure is the way we think about it.  It’s only a fail if it’s the end.  So, stop thinking about it as the end of your story.  Get out the metaphorical pen and keep writing.  This translates to get up and try again.  If you fall, try again.  Over time, you get stronger and wiser.  And you craft a story that feels like a success.    Because the only way to really fail, is to fail to try.  

Stop Failing and Start Writing

What have you failed at? What are failing at now?

How would you think about it differently if it was the middle of your story instead of the end?