What is failure anyway?

So some people don't like that I've called myself a failure in the title.  I've gotten such sweet comments as to suggest I'm an adventurer, not a failure, or my personal favorite, an anomaly (...um, thanks dad ;) ).  There's more to it than the self-deprecation blog-land allows.  Let me explain. 

When I first started this whole grad school process, I thought having to take another year was THE worst thing that could happen along the way.  It was something I had feared from the very first mention of the word.  So when it happened, that's exactly what I felt--a failure.  Now yes, there were other feelings along the way (including some great conversations with my grandma about her seeking vengance for me with her cane.  If you know my grandma then this makes sense.  If not, just imagine it, she'll be 90 this summer...) but failure was the main one.  And then I stopped.  Really, was this such a big deal in my life?  Yeah, it sucks, but THE worst thing that could happen?  No.  In fact, I'd already had an enormous wakeup call in my family with a record-breakingly huge spleen and a little unknown-to-me chromosome named after a Pennsylvania city (or a cream cheese, your call) earlier in the year.  It took me about .5 seconds to put it all together.  Granted, I let myself indulge in the self-pity I felt and the other-pity I was getting, but my perspective was changed.

Let's face it, we all fail.  Every day we fail at things big or little.  And if you're not failing, you're not taking enough risks.  For me, this is just about facing and embracing that failure, not catastrophizing it, and having fun doing it.  So I'm proud to say it, I'm a failure, everyday, and I will continue to be.  But I am always thankful for the ones in the background trying to prove me wrong.