If I had a dollar for every time I ‘failed’ at something, I would be a pretty wealthy person.
Sunday morning I received a text that read “Steph I am so sorry! Are you ok?” Yesterday I got home and my mom asked with a sympathetic voice “How’re you doing?” I responded “Good! I’m fine” to both of these questions. I had just competed for the job of Miss Oregon on Saturday night for the last time, and ‘failed’ again.