The Ultimate Faceplant

Have you ever fallen flat on your face? I mean like literally fall on your face? Bruises. Abrasions. Pain. The whole 9-yards. Sometimes visible signs and other times just the annoying silent, lingering symptoms. They all suck! 

When we fall on our face, usually there is some other force that causes the unfortunate embarrassment. Maybe we trip over something; you know, like the sidewalk when that imaginary hump suddenly appears out of nowhere. Next thing you know, you’re tasting asphalt and melted gum that was stepped on by thousands of shoes. Yum! If you have no idea what I’m talking about, 1—I think you’re lying and 2—you must have the balance and coordination of some angelic ice dancer. Go you! 

Although I hit all my milestones as a toddler, I still struggle to stay upright on my own two feet as an adult. Most days I feel like I was born with two left feet. Needless to say, I’ve fallen on my face more than a couple times. 

But what about the times we figuratively fall on our face? The embarrassing moments—or even worse, the EPIC fail?! The times we just want to hide under a rock for a while and pretend we don’t exist. We’ve all been there. For me, I can think of at least a handful of times where figuratively falling on my face was worse than actually falling on my face. 

If you could think of your worst failure or embarrassing moment, maybe one you wish you could take a mulligan for, what would it be? Would you even share it with the world? I’ve had many blunders over the years, so allow me to share a personal account of falling flat on my face. 

Cue the excitement! I’m about to meet my boyfriends’ parents for the first time. We’re in college—so this is obviously legit. Of course, I’m nervous, excited, worried. All the usual suspects wreaked havoc. My nerves took the brunt of it. 

Shortly after introductions, I excused myself to use the bathroom. In a rather hurried fashion, I jaunted upstairs, to relieve myself, but mostly my nerves, I think. Not a great idea, right? We never know what’s coming when our nerves are involved. But, when you gotta go, you gotta go. Well, I let my nerves go. I so freely gave them to the porcelain God. To my surprise, it wasn’t a welcomed gift. Who knew everything wasn’t accepted? 

You know that feeling you get after flushing—when the water starts rapidly rising? Yep, it was happening! Sometimes it suddenly stops and you are instantly relieved. Nope, not the case. Not this time. This was not good. Not good at all. I may have relieved my nerves but I just brought on whole new set of emotions. Mortified takes the cake for this one! I couldn’t stop the rising water. I was having a total freak out moment. In my head I’m thinking, “holy shit, what do I do now"? I didn’t see a plunger anywhere, but I’m sure there was one in plain site. 

I don’t remember leaving the bathroom. How do you even walk away from something like that? I wanted to just jump out the window and run away. Maybe they would never know! I may have just called for Nick. I didn’t even want to do that. And no, I didn’t text or call because I’m not one of you gross people who takes your phone in the bathroom. Yuck! How embarrassing, though? This was in the upstairs bathroom. The toilet with feces in it, overflowing. Oh my! It’s one thing to clog someone’s toilet, but when you cause it to overflow—that’s next level. To be honest I don’t have much recollection of what happened next because I was so mortified and embarrassed. What a fantastic first impression. Go me!! You know the phrase, “go big or go home”? I took that to a whole new level. I went big when I should’ve just gone home. 

Here’s the best part of the story—5 years later, at my wedding, my father-in-law recants this story. Yep, you read that correctly; my father-in-law. That boyfriend I went home with, became my husband. That mom and dad I was trying to impress, became my parents. So, in front of God and everyone, he shared one of the most mortifying experiences of my life. My reaction to it the 2nd time around, was much less traumatizing. I burst out into shamed laughter as my now husband, totally embarrassed, tries to hide his. I mean how else was I supposed to react? I’m sure he was thinking, “Shit, I totally just agreed to love this crazy, deuce dumping queen for the rest of my life”. Poor Nick! 

For the record, I have become more sophisticated and lady-like since that incident and haven’t forced any other porcelain Gods to refuse my offerings. It’s really hard to top that anyways. I share this story with you because it’s crazy and ridiculous, but brutally honest. Yes, I poop. Females poop! Wow, how bizarre is that? It really happened. I survived the experience. I’m not hiding from it. Did it make me a stronger person? Hah—probably not. It did make me human though and it makes me laugh so many years later.

If you fall on your face, stand your ass back up and keep going! Don’t hide under that rock for too long. There’s no need. Years down the road, you’ll look back and have an incredible and somewhat unbelievable story to tell. If you can top mine, I want to hear it!