Soundtrack: Shirley Horn: Here’s to Life
This year, I’ve decided to lean into something I’ve avoided for much of my life: failing publicly. And the truth is, this decision is rooted in fear — not the absence of it, but the commitment to have a healthier relationship with it.
Fear has always been with me. It’s not something I aim to eradicate but something I’ve learned to hold and navigate. Whether it’s launching initiatives that push boundaries in preservation, trying to amplify young voices in spaces where they’re often excluded, or even daring to tell my own personal stories, fear has walked alongside me in every moment of risk. And while I’ve achieved publicly, I’ve also stumbled, fallen short, and failed—but I’ve done so in silence.
“And even though I’m satisfied. I’m hungry, still. To see what’s down another road beyond the hill” (S. Horn)
I realize now that my silent failures have not served me or the work I aspire to do.
They’ve kept me from fully embracing the vulnerability and humanity that drew me into this space in the first place. We live in a world where we celebrate wins with ease:
“I’m honored to receive this award.”
“I’m pleased to announce this milestone.”
“I’m delighted to share this success.”
But rarely do we talk about the fears and failures that shaped us along the way.
For me, the fear of failing publicly is something I’ve made up in my mind. I’ve told myself that if I fail out loud, it will be a reflection of my worth or my capability. But when I say that fear out loud, it loses its power. What does it even mean to “get things right”? Who decides what’s right, and why have I allowed that pressure to weigh so heavily on me?
One of my favorite movies, Defending Your Life by Albert Brooks, has been a guiding light for me in understanding these emotions. In the film, characters are judged on whether they lived their lives free from fear. Watching it countless times over the years has inspired me to confront my own fears with curiosity rather than resistance.
So, here I am — openly admitting that I’ve been afraid of failing publicly. But I’m also here to say that this fear will no longer define me. This year, I’m committing to failing out loud. I’m committing to trying new things, taking bold risks, and stumbling in ways that might feel uncomfortable but will ultimately push me toward growth. It’s not just about me:
If I only celebrate my wins, what message does that send to the next generation? That success is clean, linear, and effortless? That perfection is the goal? No. I want to model something bolder: the courage to try, to fail, and to find freedom in the messy, imperfect process of learning.
Monica Rhodes
“There’s no Yes in Yesterday” (S.Horn)
So here’s the fear. Here’s the failure. And here’s to freedom.
This year, I’m planning 12 failures—one for every month.
These won’t be accidents or missteps; they’ll be risks I take intentionally, projects I pursue boldly, and chances I give myself to grow. I’ll stumble, learn, and reflect. And I’ll share it all with you, not just the polished moments but the messy, raw, and real ones too.
Because fear doesn’t get to write this story. I do.
Here’s to failure. Here’s to growth. Here’s to the freedom that comes when we stop running from fear and start running toward it.
“May all your storms be weathered, and all that’s’ good, get better” (S.Horn)
Monica