I Was Wrong!
When I first started out in aviation nearly 20 years ago, I carried a fear that quietly shaped the way I showed up in the world. I was terrified of making mistakes—but even more than that, I was terrified of admitting them.
Early in my career, if something went wrong, I’d find ways to soften the truth, make it seem like it wasn’t my fault, or downplay the issue. I thought I was protecting my reputation, but what I was really doing was protecting my ego. I was afraid of being seen as a failure, of not being liked, of not knowing enough. I’ve always leaned toward perfectionism—and while it pushed me to succeed, it also became a character flaw. It kept me from learning. It kept me small.
And it didn’t stop at work.
These not-so-attractive habits followed me into my personal life. I wasn’t vulnerable. I struggled to connect deeply with people because I didn’t want them to see that I was human. Silly, right? But that was my reality for a long time—I kept my guard up, thinking that strength meant having it all together.
Then something shifted.
In my mid-20s, I realized there was only one me—and I needed to start treating myself with more kindness and honesty. I started being 100% myself. I started listening to my gut, owning my mistakes, and saying no when I needed to. I began dating my now-husband and said to myself, “I don’t want to mess this one up. He’s a keeper.” So, I went to therapy.
Therapy opened doors I didn’t even know were there. I uncovered years of buried beliefs, including the why behind my perfectionism and my fear of vulnerability. Slowly, I started to shift. I stopped pretending. I started owning everything—my mistakes, my insecurities, my needs. I learned to stand up for myself, to be real, to be seen.
And I say all of this to tell you something simple: failure is good. It means you’re learning. It means you’re growing. It means you’re moving. Making mistakes is part of being human—don’t be ashamed of it. Own it, ask questions, be curious, and do it differently next time.
One of the most defining moments of my life came when a CEO of one of the largest construction companies looked me straight in the eye and said, “I have no idea what I’m doing—and honestly, no one else does either.” We’re all just making it up as we go.
That moment changed everything for me. It gave me permission to stop pretending and start living.
So here’s to the mess, the missteps, and the moments of grace that come from simply saying: “I was wrong.”