How Making Mistakes Is The Pivot For Transformation
A letter on mistakes
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime. Not typos, spelling, or submitting the wrong paper to someone else.
I mean mistakes of my person—responding verbally aggressively to people on automatic and justifying it because my pain was so deep, silencing myself when I was disrespected from the fear of being hurt, and not having believed in myself in moments my body screamed for me. And countless others.
A therapist will say my body was keeping me safe, and working on a mechanism that was written in childhood—and I agree. I know it.
A friend will say these are not mistakes. They will kindly tell me it’s who I was in that moment, and that’s okay. And I know their point of view is sound.
But there are two parts of me: a part that has matured and outgrown these experiences, and a part that equally feels slightly bad for it all because I care, and both these parts know and call these downfalls mistakes.
I committed errors. And let me tell you: there is nothing more freeing to admit.
When we grow up in an environment where we are hurt, overly-criticized, and unsafe, we are trained to have our guards up because admitting you’re wrong is admitting that you are lesser in a situation in which you are the victim.
Our society trains us to run from the word “mistake” and shame it. We’re human, and we make mistakes. And friends, it’s okay.
I used to yell like I was modeled in my childhood. And under my own choosing, I made the mistake of repeating that behavior as an adult. I made mistakes to unintentionally offend people, and called it bluntness to justify it.
This isn’t shameful to admit. This doesn’t mean that the mistake was acceptable; what it means is that you grow enough compassion to forgive yourself, because you are worthy of that. And that’s honorable.
An old side of me had an ego so thick that I couldn’t for the life of me admit that I was wrong when I was. I pointed the finger, “They hurt me too, though.” These are the characteristics that kept me from change and growth, and because I was unwilling to see where I was affecting others because of my own trauma, and I wasn’t taking responsibility for my actions. And ultimately, the person I was most hurting was myself because I was denying the life I could be living if I owned up to my actions.
Think of the person who never admits that they’re wrong, never apologizes for hurting someone (even accidentally)—is it admirable? Is it aspiring? We all know this person (and secretly despise they are that way), yet at the same time, we may also have a hard time admitting when we’re wrong, naturally, so we’re trained to think mistakes are bad. So it’s a collective problem; people fear admitting that they’re wrong because society shames mistakes.
Look at this hypothetical experiment.
Pretend you are an employee hiring someone for your business. There are two candidates. Candidate A has on record that they were fired from their last job for seriously insulting someone, but they won’t admit to it on the interview. They do everything to cover it up and justify it. It’s on paper, and it's very clear that they committed this wrongdoing.
Candidate B got fired for the same thing. They admit to it with honesty, explain what happened. They acknowledge they we’re wrong and showed you the steps of how they’re bettering themselves now.
Will you hire candidate A or candidate B?
Do you prefer being friends with the person who says mean things and never apologizes? Or do you prefer being friends with the person who says, “Hey, I’m sorry I hurt you. I was wrong about that. It won’t happen again. Do you forgive me?”
The majority always answer candidate B, or the friend who admits that they’re wrong. Being friends with the person who apologizes sprouts change, growth in a relationship, makes us feel heard, and also puts our guard down. It makes us feel safe because we know the person acknowledges any harm-doing and is honest. But hear me out on this, and it’s the most important part here:
The same way you would expect others to apologize for their mistakes, we owe the same honesty to others.
It’s a hard pill to swallow. Because this requires us to be honest with where we could be better as humans. And if you’re in a position to question if you’re unsure whether you’re right or wrong, the question I find that can help bring light to this is:
Would the best version of myself do this/say this?
You don’t necessarily need to be wrong or apologize to realize you could improve, but it’s a great stepping stone to measure the extent to which you behaved/could behave.
When we admit our mistakes (without shame), we not only remove our defenses and hours of self-explanation to give us reason, but we give a chance for the other party to put their guard down. And let them reflect too.
At the same time, playing your part doesn’t mean that the other party should too. Don’t do this to expect something in return. You’re doing this because you’re honorable and because you’re here to grow, and be a better person than the version you were yesterday.
Admitting that you could be better removes the heaviest weight off your shoulders, because you’re accepting a version of you that could be better. You’re refusing to remain stuck in a place that doesn’t serve you. And this is the exact step that ignites change. The body can respond: Ok, now that we know we can be better, what should we do to help us change?
Every single person makes mistakes. There are those who cover it up and automatically sync to a perspective that they never commit errors. And there are those who admit they could be better, and actually take those steps to change.
Those who choose Candidate B, the friend who apologizes, and take the step to change, are the ones who learn to accept failure as growth.
Friends, putting our guard down is beautiful. It’s freeing. Our defenses come down. You play your part, and your hands are clean. And it means that you set yourself a new standard to not do the same thing again: you actually have to change.
Journal this—
Channel the best version of yourself who already lives the dream life and embody the person you are working to become.
Write a letter to someone you need to say sorry to.
*You don’t need to send the letter. You can throw it away.*
If this person is important to you and you honor your relationship with them, feel free to shoot them a text when you’re ready. Everyone is waiting for the other person to make the first move. Be the first person to say it.
(Remember Candidate A/B, which type of friend do you want to be?).
You’re liberating yourself and putting your defenses down. You’re setting yourself a new standard and choosing to grow. There is nothing more freeing.
If you’re new here, welcome!
I’m Bea.
At The Ink Space, I share practical journaling exercises and intensive reflections to help rewire your inner world. Whether you’re seeking clarity, navigating difficult emotions, or need a little guidance along the way, write it down. You will get to your destination faster. I promise.
Thanks for sticking around. If this resonated, you’re welcome to join the community 💌