On Being Wrong

Discovering I am wrong is usually a distressing and embarrassing realization for me. My heart starts racing, it feels like my body temperature is rising, and there is this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s bad enough being wrong. But then if there is an audience to my wrongness, it only intensifies the experience.

This may be a factor in me taking as long as I have to blog. The other day I overheard my internal attempt to console myself and prepare for the worst: “You are probably going to write something wrong at some point, Sara.” And then I started laughing. “Probably??? Let us remember dear, that you are a human being… and human beings are routinely wrong. There has only ever been one exception, and He is divine.”

I remember one time early on in my career, discovering a fairly substantial mistake I had made. I was talking with my supervisor and, in that moment, I knew that we were both keenly aware of my error. There was a poignant pause, and then she said one of the kindest things to me. She said, “We make mistakes so we can learn.”

It is such a beautiful gift to be allowed to be imperfect—to have the space to acknowledge it, course correct, and improve. So, when I write something wrong, I hope I will be able to listen, reflect, course correct, and learn. And I hope you will too.

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