Reminiscing about the past: how a failure long ago shapes my mindset today

My dear MIMs,

At first, I couldn’t put two words together for this editorial. My mind kept jumping between my personal story, a philosophical outlook, some study tips, and even a stand-up speech (we’re all lucky I scrapped that one). The white screen stared back at me for two long hours.

And then, it hit me. I needed to write about failure.

Here at INSEAD, “failures” happen daily: another rejected application, another failed assignment. But I want to tell you about a bigger failure, a longer one. Why? You’ll find out in the end.

When I was younger, I used to be a high-level “Wushu gentleman.” Back in 2014, I was on top of my game, with a promising future ahead. I had just moved to another age and style category that suited me better.

2015 wasn’t a great year, but it was expected. I had just moved up, and my new competitors were more skilled and experienced. But one thing went wrong: I was assigned a new coach, a horrible one, to be honest. My performance, once decent, began to decline in late 2015 and early 2016. To make matters worse, my knee started aching in late 2016. I still feel it sometimes, but rather as a warm nostalgia, not the sharp pain it once was. I became completely lost, and for the next couple of years, I watched my friend and greatest opponent shine instead.

2017 was a turning point: another new coach, a healthy knee, a clear mind, and a new goal — to compete and win against Kirill (you can Google “Kirill Bondarenko wushu”). It took me two long years of eleven training sessions a week, relentless determination, and constant muscle pain to get ready. We trained together often, and although everyone knew he was naturally stronger, a miracle could happen.

Then came the national competition in 2019. I was in my prime, while my friend, though incredibly talented, had struggled with discipline sometimes. I knew it was my best shot, as my plans were uncertain for the future.

The X-day arrived, but he was nowhere to be found. This wasn’t how I wanted to win, but I could have had a better chance if he warmed up poorly. Time passed; he didn’t show up. Judges called his name, but no one appeared; he had overslept.

Now it was my turn. I performed to the best of my ability and was thrilled with my score. Gold medal in the pocket, or so I thought.

But it wasn’t over. He finally arrived, warmed up quickly, and the judges let him perform at the end of our group (about 40 competitors in total). The miracle didn’t happen; he delivered a routine as usual and beat me by a small margin. I ended up with silver that day, that year, and forever.

I was still the second best, which is something to be proud of. A promising future was still ahead, as we were in different categories except for one style. But I chose to step away and explore other parts of myself. Now, I study at a top business school in France, while he performs on a world level. Did I fail and give up? Maybe. But did I do the right thing for me? Definitely. I don’t think I could have ever given him real competition, and it doesn't really matter today. It was the process which mattered now, not the result.

Back to reality! This week, Glasgow's average age jumped high, alcohol stores are facing a crisis, and a couple of German boys are working on the cheat sheet for 12 long hours... I assume this has been one of the most stressful weeks so far. First exams in a new environment, first heavily graded evaluations, and a huge chunk of uncertainty.

 But before any of it overwhelms you, take a look over your shoulder: you have achieved so much already, can P1 challenges really stop you on your journey? I don’t think so. Find the time and courage to move on and do what’s right for you, and enjoy the process!  

I remain at your service as an academic rep.

Sincerely,
Daniel