The Phone Call
I can still picture myself sitting at the kitchen table the day after trials. My knee bouncing under the chair while I stared at my phone, waiting.
When it finally rang, I heard, “We are calling to let you know we have decided not to select you for the team.”
The words slammed into me. I felt the tears instantly sting my eyes and my stomach dropped. All I could think was I failed.
Months of training suddenly felt wasted. The worst part was not even hearing the news, but telling my family that I had failed. Saying it out loud made it feel more real.
What Failure Cost Me
For a long time, moments like this defined how I saw failure. To me, there were only two possible outcomes: success or failure. Somewhere along the way, I learned that anything that wasn’t success was failure, and failure was something I avoided at all costs.
The problem was that this fear of getting things wrong started shaping my decisions. I avoided taking risks because they might not work out. I hesitated before applying for opportunities because I might be rejected. I stopped putting myself forward to lead.
Early this year, before the Women Emerging (WE) Accelerator, I was talking with a friend about postgraduate applications when he interrupted my spiral of “what ifs”.
“Megan, I think you are afraid to fail.”
At the time, I brushed off his comment. But the more I sat with it, the harder it became to ignore.
The Shift
It was during the WE Accelerator that everything began to shift. One of the ideas that stuck with me the most was that how we lead is made up of Elements. Some serve us, some don’t, and we get to decide whether to jettison or reframe them.
During a Zoom discussion with my fellow Explorers, we were talking about things women often need to reframe rather than discard. Someone mentioned failure. In that moment, it finally clicked. I had been viewing failure entirely by the outcome.
If I did not get what I wanted, I labelled the experience a failure and moved on. But what if my definition was too narrow? What if sometimes failure is not determined by the result alone?
For the first time, I started thinking about all my previous “failures”. I thought about all the things I had learned from the team I did not make. The training, discipline, skills, and confidence that came from showing up and trying.
None of those things disappeared when I didn’t make the team. The outcome was disappointing, but the experience was not worthless.
It was then that I reframed failure. I stopped seeing it as evidence that I wasn’t good enough and started seeing it as information. Sometimes it’s feedback. Sometimes it’s growth. Sometimes it’s proof that you were simply willing to try.
Putting It Into Practice
I would love to say my fear of failure disappeared overnight. It did not. I still find myself questioning, doubting, and worrying about getting things wrong. I even felt scared while submitting the draft of this piece. What if my ideas were not good enough? What if I had to rewrite the whole thing?
Part of me wanted to submit the perfect draft. A version that could not be criticised, because anything criticised would become a failure in my eyes. But this time I caught myself. I stopped and asked myself what the worst-case scenario actually was.
Maybe I would receive feedback. Maybe I would need to rewrite sections. Maybe the final version would be completely different.
But would it mean that I had failed? Not really. If anything, those outcomes would make the piece stronger.
When I focused on the process rather than the outcome, I realised I had already learned. Writing this piece had taught me so much about myself and my fear.
What This Means Now
As women, we are often encouraged to take risks by systems that still punish mistakes. This creates a difficult tension. I thought my fear of failure was protecting me, but I realised it was really just holding me back. I think the answer is not to pretend you enjoy failing. I still don’t.
What has changed is that I no longer see failure as the opposite of success. Often, growth is hidden in the process rather than the outcome. The team I didn’t make. The draft that still needs revisions. Neither of those experiences gets its value from the outcome alone.
Leading, I am learning, is not always about getting it right. Sometimes it is about getting it wrong and focusing on all the little things you learn along the way.
About the author
Megan Hirschfeld is a fourth-year Bachelor of Health Sciences student at Queen’s University in Kingston, Ontario. She is passionate about teaching, learning, and creating spaces where voices are heard, valued, and empowered. Megan currently plays on Queen’s University’s varsity women’s hockey team. Her experiences in sport have profoundly shaped her understanding of leadership and inspired her commitment to creating opportunities for younger generations of women in sport. After completing the Women Studying in Higher Education Expedition and through her leadership journey, Megan continues to explore what it means to lead authentically and empower those around her.
