I hope you fail.

I'm glad you failed.

Not because I want to flourish in the absence of your success.

I don't enjoy watching you fail. Or anyone, for that matter.

But every now and again, I want you to fail.

It's good for you.

And, here's why…

Scroll your newsfeed. Jump through a few Instagram stories.

Do you see anyone failing?

Do you see anyone telling you how hard things are?

Can you find a story about disappointment, hard times, the stuff people are actually going through?

If you're world enough to see through the highlight reel, then you can probably read what someone really means without them writing it.

But here's the thing worth sitting with: what the world shows you isn't the truth. It's what people want you to see. They want you to like the post. They want you to tell them they're amazing, that they're inspiring. They want a positive reflection, something to make them feel better about themselves.

Do you know what feels better than all of that?

Failing, and then eventually succeeding.

Do you know what feels even better?

Failing over and over again. For weeks. Months. Years. And then succeeding.

Nearly every one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the world carries a story, sometimes several, of disappointment. Of tough times. Of hustling to get off the street. Of losing thousands, sometimes millions. Of working for months or years only to get squashed like a paper cup.

I still think about an episode from a series called Leaders Create Leaders, presented by Gerard Adams. The lesson that stuck is this: every rich, successful, genuine entrepreneur understands the purpose of their own failure. They know it's coming. They know it teaches them the next step, for who they're becoming and where they're headed. They accept failure as a stepping stone, not a verdict.

There's a documentary on Mat Fraser I’ve come back to a couple of times. He talks about losing twice. How he hates his two second-place medals. And how, at the same time, those are the medals that mean the most to him. He knew the first time he placed second, he didn't actually deserve to win the CrossFit Games. The second time, he'd put in the work, the effort, the commitment, but he still had further to go. He had to want it more. Dedicate his life to it. He used those medals to grow, as an athlete and as a person. And when he finally won, it meant something.

Do you know what it took Sir Edmund Hillary to reach the summit of Everest?

Do you know how Sir Colin Meads became one of the most dominant All Blacks of his time?

Do you know how many times Kate Sheppard was knocked back before women won the right to vote?

Do you know how much money Robert Kiyosaki lost before Rich Dad Poor Dad made him wealthy?

The thing all these people have in common: they failed.

Not once. Enough times, with enough hurt, that when success finally came, it meant something.

A little mental toughness. Some perseverance. Plenty of determination. Failing is the pathway to your success, not the obstacle to it.

You won't see your own success while you're in it. Only failure. You'll see plenty of success around you, in front of you, everywhere but where you're standing.

So fail. Maybe more than once. Because when success finally comes, you won't need to tell the world.

It'll feel too good to matter.