Failure isn’t the opposite of success — it’s the essential path that leads us there. Yet, in a culture obsessed with perfection and instant achievement, failure feels like a dirty word, something to be feared and avoided at all costs. What if we flipped that script? What if embracing failure, leaning into discomfort, and starting from rock bottom were the very things that unlock freedom, creativity, and real growth?
This article unpacks why failure is not a setback but the way forward — drawing on hard-won lessons, surprising research, and the story of a young man who turned economic collapse and personal hardship into a launching pad for an extraordinary journey. If you’ve ever hesitated to try because you’re scared of failing, this is your invitation to see failure in a new, liberating light.
Mark’s Misfortune?
Mark Manson’s entry into adulthood coincided with one of the harshest economic climates in recent history. Graduating in 2007, he stepped into the world as the Great Recession was tightening its grip, unleashing a wave of financial chaos that dismantled industries and erased jobs at an unprecedented scale. The optimism and energy typical of a fresh college graduate were met instead with an unrelenting barrage of rejection letters, a paralyzing job market, and a growing sense of uncertainty that seemed to seep into every facet of life.
But that wasn’t all. Around the same time, Mark found himself blindsided by a roommate who had been silently shirking rent payments for months. When confronted, she reacted with tears and promptly vanished, leaving Mark and his other roommate to shoulder the full financial burden. The result was a sudden and devastating blow to his finances—his savings evaporated overnight. The stability he’d counted on crumbled, forcing him into a precarious existence where he relied on the kindness of friends, couch surfing while juggling odd jobs just to scrape by.
At face value, this story reads as a catalogue of misfortune. Yet Mark calls it “fortunate” for a striking reason: he entered the adult world already broken, stripped of illusions and lofty expectations. Starting at rock bottom — with no safety net, no job, and no money — became the unlikely foundation for everything that followed. It’s a place most fear, but Mark was forced to face it early, before attachments and fears of loss had solidified. Without anything to lose, he could only move forward.
This forced humility allowed Mark to bypass the paralysis many face when starting something new—whether launching a business, changing careers, or leaving a toxic job. When failure is your baseline, the prospect of trying and falling short loses its sting. Things could only improve. This raw beginning granted him a clarity of purpose that might have otherwise taken years, or never, to achieve.
Starting at Rock Bottom: The Liberation of Having Nothing to Lose
Mark’s time living on a friend’s couch, counting coins to determine if he could afford a cheap meal, and submitting résumé after résumé into the void was a brutal education in survival. It was during these months of instability and uncertainty that the seemingly reckless idea of starting a blog or an online business stopped feeling like an irrational gamble. If every project he tried failed, if every post went unread, he’d simply be back where he started—no worse off, no more debt-ridden.
This perspective — that failure is merely a step back to the beginning — is a liberating mindset unavailable to many who fear losing what they have. To Mark, it was a safety net: the worst case was failure, which he was already intimately familiar with.
Raised in a wealthy family where money was rarely a concern, Mark observed firsthand how financial abundance often acted as a barrier to genuine growth. Money was frequently used to avoid problems rather than solve them, creating a fragile illusion of security. This upbringing taught him that wealth alone was a hollow metric for self-worth. You could have plenty of money and be miserable, or be broke and content. Therefore, why allow monetary success to define his value?
Instead, Mark’s true currency became freedom and autonomy—the ability to live and work on his own terms. Entrepreneurship, especially in the digital realm, promised escape from hierarchical structures and rigid routines. The allure wasn’t just financial gain; it was reclaiming control over how, when, and where he worked.
Faced with the stark choice between “making decent money at a job he hated” or “playing at internet entrepreneurship and being broke for a while,” the answer was immediate. The risk of temporary failure paled in comparison to a lifetime trapped in dissatisfaction.
Even then, Mark reasoned pragmatically about potential failure. If after a few years his online ventures flopped and he had to return to the traditional workforce, what would he have lost? Merely time—he’d be a few years older but not any less capable. This detachment from fear allowed him to embrace uncertainty fully.
To Mark, the real failure was not in sleeping on couches, accruing debt, or an empty résumé. It was in failing to pursue his own values and projects. The courage to try, regardless of outcome, became the true definition of success.
The Failure/Success Paradox: Picasso’s Napkin
Mark Manson invokes the story of Pablo Picasso doodling on a café napkin to illustrate a profound paradox at the heart of mastery and success. To an untrained observer, Picasso’s quick sketch—a spontaneous swirl of lines on stained paper—might seem trivial, even worthless. Yet, when a woman offers to buy the napkin, Picasso asks for $20,000. Her incredulous reaction is met with his calm reminder: “It took me over sixty years to draw this.”
This anecdote encapsulates a critical truth: success is not a sudden stroke of genius but the culmination of decades of relentless practice, experimentation, and, crucially, failure. The visible “product” of mastery—the art, the business, the accomplishment—is just the tip of a vast iceberg of unseen effort and setbacks beneath the surface.
If you want to excel, you must be willing to endure a thousand minor defeats, many of which feel like outright failures. The more failures you endure, the more you learn, adapt, and refine your craft. It’s no coincidence that the most skilled individuals often have the longest histories of struggle. Conversely, those who struggle often haven’t yet faced enough failure to grow.
Children embody this principle naturally. A toddler learning to walk tumbles repeatedly but does not stop trying. They don’t hesitate because they fear failure; they persist because they don’t yet know what failure means. It’s only as we grow older—indoctrinated by education systems that punish mistakes, parents who shield us from risk, and societal narratives celebrating instant success—that we develop an aversion to failure.
This fear cages creativity and stifles growth. It pushes us to cling to comfort zones, avoid challenges, and settle for mediocrity. The paradox is brutally clear: if you’re not willing to fail, you’re not willing to succeed. Failure is not the enemy—it is the essential prerequisite for achievement.
Choosing Your Values Wisely
One of the foundational insights Mark shares is that much of our fear of failure stems from poorly chosen values. If you base your self-worth on external, uncontrollable outcomes—like “making everyone like me” or “achieving a certain status”—you hand over the reins of your happiness to forces beyond your influence.
Measuring yourself by how others perceive you guarantees anxiety and disappointment because people’s judgments are unpredictable and often unfair. Your self-esteem becomes a fragile house of cards, ready to collapse with any criticism or rejection.
Instead, Mark advocates for adopting internal, process-oriented values—values rooted in your own behavior, effort, and growth. Metrics like “improving my communication skills” or “expressing myself honestly” are within your control and never truly “complete.” They invite ongoing engagement and provide a sense of purpose beyond external validation.
External achievements—buying a house, getting a promotion, hitting milestones—are finite. Once attained, they offer no further challenge, no new frontier. This void often triggers existential crises or midlife dissatisfaction, as the drive that fueled those pursuits dissipates.
Picasso’s lifelong commitment to “honest expression” demonstrates the power of endless, evolving values. His motivation was not fame or fortune, but a continual process of creative exploration. This allowed him to innovate, improve, and find joy in the journey, rather than in fixed endpoints.
Choosing values wisely, then, means privileging growth over outcomes, process over product, and internal alignment over external approval. It’s a strategy not just for surviving failure, but for thriving beyond it.
Pain Is Part of the Process
Mark Manson draws on the work of Polish psychologist Kazimierz Dabrowski, who studied survivors of the unimaginable horrors of World War II, to reveal a counterintuitive but deeply hopeful truth: intense pain and trauma can be catalysts for profound personal growth. These survivors—having endured starvation, bombings, the Holocaust, and loss—often described their post-war lives as richer, more meaningful, and more resilient than before. The crucible of suffering forced them to shed superficial concerns and develop a heightened appreciation for life’s essentials: gratitude, responsibility, and emotional strength.
This phenomenon, now recognized as post-traumatic growth, shows that pain is not simply something to avoid or numb but an essential ingredient in the alchemy of transformation. Just as physical pain signals injury but also triggers healing and strengthening, emotional pain signals deep internal shifts. It compels us to confront our vulnerabilities, reassess our values, and forge a stronger sense of self.
Yet this process is far from comfortable. Many resist pain, chasing after fleeting highs, numbing themselves with distractions or substances, or clinging to false optimism. But denying pain stalls growth. It’s only when we lean into discomfort—when we weather what Mark calls the “shitstorm”—that real change occurs. The willingness to feel pain fully, to sit with uncertainty and grief, opens the door to resilience, compassion, and authentic happiness.
For many, the darkest moments become the wellspring of their greatest insights and strengths. Cancer survivors speak of renewed gratitude; veterans often describe a hardened mental toughness forged in adversity. Dabrowski’s research reminds us that psychological growth demands suffering, and that to avoid pain is to deny our potential to evolve.
The “VCR Questions”: Simple Actions, Complex Emotions
Life confronts us with what Mark calls “VCR questions”—tasks that seem simple in theory but become emotionally labyrinthine in practice. Much like pressing buttons on an unfamiliar VCR, the mechanics are straightforward, yet the emotional undertow can make even the smallest action feel impossible.
Take, for example, the medical student whose immigrant parents sacrificed everything to put her through school, yet she despises medicine and desperately wants to quit. The paperwork to withdraw is simple. But the weight of disappointing those who invested so much creates a paralyzing internal conflict.
Or the young man agonizing over how to ask his tutor out, dissecting every smile and word for hidden signals. Saying “Will you go out with me?” is easy to say but fraught with the terror of rejection, shame, and vulnerability.
Then there’s the single mother whose adult children have overstayed their welcome, consuming her resources and space. Asking them to move out is a clear conversation, but it feels like an act of abandonment, guilt-ridden and fraught with emotional complexity.
What makes these “VCR questions” so challenging is that the emotional landscape complicates otherwise straightforward decisions. Our feelings twist our perception, making the path forward seem opaque and overwhelming.
Mark highlights that many of us let these emotional complexities freeze us in place. We conflate our feelings—fear, guilt, shame—with reality. Because something feels impossible, we convince ourselves it is.
Breaking through requires separating action from emotion. While feelings must be acknowledged and honored, they shouldn’t become prisons. Progress happens when we act despite discomfort, accepting pain as part of the process.
In Mark’s own life, social anxiety rendered simple interactions daunting. The question “How do you just walk up and talk to someone?” felt insurmountable because emotions distorted his reality. Learning to act anyway—taking steps through fear—was crucial to breaking free.
These stories remind us that while emotions complicate action, they need not paralyze it. The key is to recognize the difference between emotional experience and practical possibility, and to choose to move forward regardless.
The “Do Something” Principle: Action Breeds Motivation
Mark Manson’s journey into self-employment in 2008 was marked by a deep sense of confusion and fear. After quitting a conventional job that barely lasted six weeks, he found himself adrift in the sprawling, ambiguous world of online entrepreneurship. Suddenly, the responsibility for everything — from learning web design to mastering search engine optimization — fell squarely on his shoulders. This freedom, exhilarating as it was, quickly morphed into paralysis. Faced with the enormity of his unknowns, Mark procrastinated, distracting himself with computer games and avoiding the work that could move him forward.
But a piece of advice from his high school math teacher, Mr. Packwood, echoed in his mind: “If you’re stuck on a problem, don’t sit there and think about it; just start working on it. Even if you don’t know what you’re doing, the simple act of working on it will eventually cause the right ideas to show up in your head.” This seemingly simple dictum became a lifeline. The “do something” principle encouraged Mark to start with the smallest possible action — redesigning a website header, writing a few lines of copy — rather than waiting for clarity or motivation to magically appear.
This approach unravels a common misconception about motivation. Most people believe motivation is a prerequisite for action — that you must feel inspired first before doing anything meaningful. Instead, Mark discovered the cycle is more fluid and recursive: action sparks inspiration, which fuels motivation, which leads to more action. In other words, motivation isn’t just the cause of action; it’s often the effect.
When motivation flags, starting anywhere — no matter how trivial the task — can reignite momentum. For example, committing to write just 200 “crappy” words per day (as a novelist Mark Ferriss cites once did) removes the pressure for perfection and opens the door to inspiration and flow. The threshold to start is low; the potential for progress, immense.
This principle not only dismantles procrastination but also rewires how we engage with challenges. Instead of waiting for external or internal conditions to feel “right,” we create those conditions by simply starting. In doing so, we break free from inertia and enter a cycle of continuous growth.
Reframing Failure: Progress Is The Only Metric
One of the most liberating insights Mark shares is the radical reframing of failure. When success is redefined not by final outcomes but by the consistent act of doing, failure ceases to be a paralyzing endpoint and becomes a natural part of progress.
This shift dismantles the tyranny of perfectionism. It rejects the false binary where every attempt is either an unequivocal success or a crushing failure. Instead, it embraces a spectrum where every action, regardless of immediate result, is a step forward. Writing a blog post that no one reads, launching a product that flops, or making a socially awkward approach — none of these are failures in the traditional sense. They are data points, lessons, and momentum builders.
By adopting “doing” as the sole metric for success, Mark invites a mindset where failure loses its sting. The fear that inhibits risk-taking dissolves because every move counts, no matter the outcome. The very act of engaging with your goals is progress and therefore success.
This perspective also reframes motivation as something generated by action rather than a prerequisite for it. Feeling stuck or uninspired no longer means you are doomed to stagnate. Instead, you’re empowered to create your own momentum by simply acting.
This approach can start with the smallest gestures: listening attentively to a friend once, choosing compassion when frustrated, or acknowledging your own role in a conflict. Such actions build a snowball effect, gradually creating confidence and internal motivation.
Ultimately, failure ceases to be a barrier and becomes the fuel that propels you forward. When the only true failure is inaction, the freedom to experiment, stumble, and recover opens a path toward authentic growth and fulfillment.
Failure Is the Way Forward
Failure is not the enemy. It is the crucible of growth, the harbinger of change, the necessary friction in the machinery of progress.
When you begin from failure, you strip away illusions. You see clearly what matters: persistence, resilience, and action.
Embrace the stumbles, the missteps, and the scrapes. They are the very things that push you forward — toward freedom, autonomy, and an authentic life.
Failure is the way forward. Keep moving.