The brisk Sydney air nipped at my cheeks as I stood on the curb, hailing a cab. It was 2023, and I was about to embark on a new chapter in Sydney, leaving behind the familiar comfort of La and my job at a top-rated legal firm.
One of the many things I cherished about that time was their unique mantra: "It's okaaaayyyy to be wrong!" It resonated deeply, offering a safe space for learning and growth. When someone made a mistake, they wouldn't be met with blame or reprimand, but with open arms and a collaborative spirit. Mistakes were viewed as stepping stones, not stumbling blocks. We openly discussed them, dissecting the "what," "how," and "why" with the collective goal of improvement. This fostered a culture of learning and innovation, where fear of failure was replaced by a thirst for knowledge.
However, this concept of embracing mistakes was foreign to my upbringing. My mother, though well-meaning, held a different perspective. One visit home, I borrowed her car, accidentally leaving an uncapped pen on the passenger seat. The resulting ink stain, no bigger than a dime, triggered a response that resonated deeply within me. Her words, though seemingly harmless - "good thing it wasn't my new car" - carried a subtle yet impactful message: "my belongings are valued more than you." This unintentional message, coupled with the expectation of flawlessness, instilled a deep-seated fear of failure within me.
As a child, constantly striving for perfection became my self-preservation strategy, a shield against my mother's potential anger. This translated into a life filled with anxieties and self-doubt. My clumsiness, messiness, and even the natural learning curves associated with new skills were perceived as failures, breeding shame and hindering my growth.
This "never-fail" strategy backfired spectacularly. Mistakes were inevitable, and by shying away from them, I missed out on valuable lessons, opportunities for improvement, and the joy of learning from experience. Even now, the fear of failure lingers, particularly in my writing endeavors. My mother's voice, albeit unintentionally, echoes in my mind, questioning the validity of my chosen path.
But enough is enough. I refuse to be paralyzed by the fear of spilled ink, metaphorical or literal. I will embrace the messiness, the stumbles, and the inevitable falls, for they are the hallmarks of a life well-lived. I will spill my heart and soul onto the page, unafraid of the potential for error, for that is where true growth and fulfillment reside.
My journey is far from over. There will be more ink stains, more missteps, and more moments of self-doubt. However, I now understand that these are not roadblocks, but stepping stones. They are the whispers of experience, guiding me towards self-discovery and a life enriched by learning and growth. And in that realization, I find the courage to embrace the beautiful messiness that is life, mistakes and all.
NEAL LLOYD
