Built on Failure™

This summer, I sat on the beach during my yearly vacation in Greece. The sun was shining, the waves rolling, just had a fantastic lunch, best company - the insta-perfect “living my best life.” I should have felt high on life. I should’ve been able to relax and shut my brain down and rest. But inside, I was pretty much crippled by doubt about my future, my purpose, and my choices, and frankly, sick of everything and everyone. On the outside, I was posting pictures that could make many jealous—on the inside, I felt empty and emotionless.

Not long ago, I almost had a little heart attack when a client wrote me that they had to claim their travel health insurance because they got sick abroad. A thousand thoughts rushed through my head: Did I do everything correctly? Did I explain it well enough? Did I give them all the information on time so they could handle it on their own? Panic crept in, and I ran straight to my computer to double-check the coverage and conditions. Finally, I confirmed everything was fine. I leaned back, tried breathing exercises, and attempted to calm my racing heart. But my immediate thought was: “Oh God, I cannot do this. This is too stressful!”

The responsibility suddenly feels enormous. It’s no fun and games when claims can reach six figures. And yes, the rule holds: higher-paying jobs come with higher responsibility—and higher stress. But I’m not even hitting my financial goals yet—so what the hell am I doing putting myself through this?! That’s how it felt in that moment and grrlll did I wish I had a sugar daddy.

Then, another example: I filed my taxes again. Since I had more expenses this year, trying to build a business, there was also more I could technically write off. I thought it was done and dealt with, but soon after, I was confronted with a full check-up by the Finanzamt, because I had forgotten to consider one small thing. The stress of it dragged on for two weeks. That single oversight made me feel like a total failure. The weight of it sat heavily on my chest, another reminder of how thin the line is between being on top of things and being crushed by them.

I think back, too, to when I reached out to one of our experts for help and completely misunderstood their explanation. I probably looked like a clueless Barbie Ausländer girl. Even though I cleared it up quickly, the shame lingered for days. It’s funny how the smallest slip can push you back into that childhood feeling of being called “idiot” for no reason. Rationally, I know it’s human to stress when you feel responsible, human to doubt yourself, and normal to make mistakes. But it is so hard to shake it off! I am sure I’m not the only one who feels that constant need to be perfect all the time—and it’s exhausting! And not to forget, absolutely unnatural.

Here is the reality: as children, mistakes meant a forgotten homework assignment. Now, they can mean 100k in personal damages or a confrontation with the tax office. Not me thinking I should’ve enjoyed my kindergarten more.

Life feels like it’s all about choices: low responsibility and low return, or high responsibility, high risk, and hopefully high return. But as anyone trying to build something of their own knows, we often find ourselves in situations out of balance—huge effort, high risk, heavy responsibility, with little return beyond the hope that someday it will all pay off.

I know many fellow artists know this cycle well. We practice endlessly, investing our lives in the hope of regular concerts and a sustainable career. Or we take university jobs, passing our passion to the next generation, hoping to balance stability with meaning. But, as Einstein said, “it is mad to do the same thing day after day and expect a different result.” Still, we follow the formula given to us by professors, believing that if we just get good enough, doors will open—when in most cases, it takes much more than that, and we should perhaps sometimes look at things from a fresh perspective and be more honest as a community.

Theoretically (besides skill), marketing, self-promotion, and contacts are essential for anyone self-employed. But real confidence and a stable career also come from deep trust in your own competence and the belief that this is what you are supposed to do. Trust that no matter what happens, things will work out—because you can do it, and you will figure it out. The annoying and exhausting part is: you cannot reach that kind of mastery and trust without failing, without misjudging, without feeling stupid and ashamed sometimes—without using all that to prove yourself that no matter the failure, you can pick yourself back up and be glad you at least dared to try.

Ha! But despite knowing all that in theory…why are we still so hard on ourselves? 

So here I sit—on a beach that looks like paradise, living a life that looks perfect in pictures—yet fighting the same doubts, fears, and insecurities we all carry inside. Do not get fooled. Trying everything out of the ordinary or one’s comfort zone is f*ing confronting and hard. The rewards often don’t come easily or immediately, and your surroundings are not always supportive. Doesn’t mean you haven’t done great progress and showed strong endurance and character development already - and hey, it doesn’t mean it is not on its way. Note (also to myself): Keep going.

I am writing this today because we all want to present a perfect, confident face. But deep down, each of us has that evil little voice that whispers our worst insecurities. I say we shut that b*tch up, friends. And let’s help each other replace it with better voices: kindness, encouragement, support of one another, and truth.