Losing

I remember waiting that night for a call I knew was gonna come... she was not choosing me. It was like so many other times in my life -- baseball, politics, some friends or a couple folks I thought I really cared for. But in this situation (and partially because I guess after the other events in my life, I was skeptical), I knew the outcome as soon as I knew that there was going to be an opportunity for them to discuss "what went wrong." So September 28, 2010, I knew I'd lost the Battle of Elam before the gun ever went off.

For some reason, this topic, this reality, has been on my mind a lot lately. It's been in my dreams, and the occasional thought crossing my mind (like Saturday when I was playing Galaga at Frankie's). To have not been chosen is a reality that I've come to accept in so many parts of my life -- at one level, it's brought a level of "zen" to so most aspects of my life. The fact that I could be at peace with what I feel, what I think, and where I am is a reflection of wanting little, and believing in myself again.

I remember those days, the last straw of disappointment -- self-inflicted and otherwise -- as either the end of something or the beginning of something. In the following three weeks, I faced, with an ever-widening gap between the two of us (the conversations or messages ending less often with the expressions of love as she fell back into that other comfort zone), the devastating loss of my niece and a very serious and real threat to my relatively new position with the company. I could feel the darkness and depression of those days in early April and throughout the month of May and June beginning to eclipse all the light in my life.

Then came an opportunity to prove myself in some small way. I stood before a prospect and sold myself, sold our product and our company, in a way that I don't think I truly knew I could. I spoke with confidence (that confidence that I have come to understand so many people have seen and is how most have defined me) and moved into an environment that I have come to realize is where professionally I should have been a long time ago.

I've seen progress on my major areas of fault. I now live my life clearly by a simple principle -- do what I say I am going to do -- and a simple rule: the truth is not optional. I feel what I feel and am not ashamed of it. Sadly, some of my weight has come back, but I am still 25+ lbs. lighter than I was the day I was admitted to Duke and 35+ lbs. lighter than where I often was.

Most of my financial difficulties are resolved or nearing resolution. Many of the lapses in judgment that I once tried to hide (but kept my life in perpetual shadow) have been addressed. I own that I am human, and I have made terrible, stupid mistakes. I am better for them, and for accepting responsibility for them.

I can't tell you why in those three dark weeks, I didn't do what everything else in my life seemed to be telling me -- give up. It's over. I lost battle, after battle, after battle. But when it came time to show my mettle, I didn't give up. I stood tall and built myself anew on that foundation.

I can't tease out why I was not the one chosen. Her reasons are hers. I can't call them fear, or love, or anything else, because they are not mine. I could be bitter and angry or vindictive. I could do lots of things. But I choose to be the most loving person I can, and not allow myself to be defined by what I have no control over or even less understanding of.

I choose to view losing as the first step of winning. Not winning a battle, or a war -- those analogies just aren't applicable. I view it as the first step of winning in my life, in my own way, and without constant fear to what tomorrow may or may not bring.

I lost. It doesn't define me -- it's just a part of me. And I will understand one day.