❝Don't fear failure. Fear being in the exact same place next year as you are today.❞ -unknown
I'm standing up with a little help from my mom, whose hands are underneath my arms. It's 1980, and I'm about to take my first step. I reach my right foot out and put my weight on it. Everybody goes crazy with cheers! I've hit the milestone; I've taken my first step! I’m feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof.
Unfortunately, things don't go so well on my next step. With my weight on my right foot, I reach out to put my left foot down and fall right on my face. I start crying as my mom tries to comfort me. Not only does it hurt falling on my face, but I get embarrassed because I can't walk. Everybody around me walks. I start to think there is something wrong with me.
I keep trying. Eventually, I'm able to walk two steps, then five steps, but most of the time, I have to hold onto a coffee table or a couch to keep my balance. Everybody seems to cheer, but I know that they're judging me for not being able to do what they've been able to do for decades.
It's frustrating. I don't like failing. I get the sense that this walking thing just isn't for me. I tell myself it's time to throw in the towel.