Confidence Comes From Surviving Failure

SXSW Said "not yet"

My recent short film was denied by SXSW 2025. I failed. But failure isn’t new to me—it’s an old friend. The kind of friend who pops into your life now and then, like someone stalking your Facebook page and leaving a shitty comment.

I spent 20 years as a professional wrestler but never made it out of the independent scene. I started as a sophomore in high school, and I’ll never forget a teacher who once told me, “You’re not a professional unless you make a living at it.”

We’re not Facebook friends.

I tried acting, but I mostly existed in the blurry background. I attempted stand-up comedy, but apparently, you need to be funny for that to work.

And for the last seven years, I put filmmaker in the bio of my LinkedIn page. Heaven help me if I change it again. I’m in my 40s—it’s time to pick a lane.

But what was I talking about again... Oh yeah, being a failure. But here’s the thing: this isn’t a story about sour grapes.

Rewriting the Script

There was a time when I wouldn’t have even dared to submit something to a film competition, let alone one as prestigious as SXSW. I used to cling to this bizarre mentality: If they want me, they’ll find me.

Looking back, I realize how crazy that thinking was. Thousands of talented filmmakers are out there, pouring their hearts into their work, pursuing the same dream as me. Expecting “them”—whoever “they” are—to pluck me from obscurity without me raising my hand? Pure insanity.

The fact that I submitted a film at all feels like a win.

The League of Inspiration

I was scrolling through YouTube one day looking for some inspiration when I stumbled across a video from SXSW 2015 featuring guest speaker Mark Duplass. All I knew of him was his role as Pete on The League, a show I happened to be watching at the time. What I didn’t realize was that this talk would become a pivotal moment for me as an independent filmmaker.

Duplass’s words were simple but powerful: “The cavalry isn’t coming.” He repeated it once more giving it the Tony Robbins treatment. Those four words hit me like a ton of bricks. It wasn’t just some catchy phrase—it was a wake-up call. If I wanted to make films, I couldn’t sit around waiting for someone else to make it happen for me.

His talk wasn’t just about filmmaking; it was about taking control of your creative destiny. He spoke about making films on a shoestring budget, focusing on story and authenticity rather than waiting for a big break. He made it sound possible, accessible even.

Duplass shared an example of a short film he and his brother made called This is John. The production was far from perfect—the lighting was awful, the microphone was the one on the camera, and, to top it off, the camera had a dead pixel smack in the middle of the frame. Despite its flaws, they decided to submit it to a few festivals, including SXSW. That decision, he said, would change their lives forever.

Hearing this story lit a spark in me. If they could take a leap of faith with an imperfect film, why couldn’t I?

Hitting Submit

not yet is far from flawless. The audio is rough. Living near a small airport means dealing with pilots who seem to love circling endlessly over my house, almost as if they’re trying to test my patience.

The visuals? Also a struggle. The sun battled with clouds all day, causing the lighting to swing wildly between underexposed and overexposed.

But despite all this, I hoped the judges would see what mattered most: my ability to tell a compelling story. More importantly, I wanted them to see the incredible performance by my lead actor, Brittany Beckham. She didn’t just play the character; she became her, bringing the story to life in a way I could never have imagined.

"not yet" Isn't "No"

The rejection wasn’t a full stop; it was a pause. SXSW said, “not yet,” and I’ll take that as permission to keep growing. The very act of submitting my film was a leap I once would’ve been too scared to take. This is a reminder of how far I’ve come.

Rejections like this don’t define me. What defines me is the work, the process, and the courage to press “submit” in the first place.

For now, I’ll take “not yet” as an invitation to keep creating, to keep learning, and to keep showing up. Because if failure is part of the journey, then it’s also proof that I’m still on the road.