I Made a Mistake Today—and I Didn’t Break Down

Years ago, I developed a strange fear of making mistakes. Even though I never saw a professional to confirm what I was experiencing, I was pretty sure I frequently had panic attacks. At first, it might have seemed like the fear stemmed from perfectionist tendencies, but it was also fueled by being harshly scolded every time I did something wrong. To say it was a terrifying experience would be an understatement. It was traumatic.

My family didn’t know how frightened I had become of raised voices until we went on a vacation. One random evening, my mom, my sister, and I went to a sports bar and tried a shooting game there. As expected, I sucked. The officer seemed so frustrated with how bad I was at shooting that he—almost, almost—raised his voice in exasperation.

I knew he didn’t mean anything by it. For all I knew, he was probably just joking. But the near shouting almost sent me into a panic; my heart started pounding wildly. In my head, I couldn’t stop repeating: What did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?

It wasn’t healthy. My mom, who used to not understand why I felt the way I did, suddenly realized how alarming my mental state was. And that was the moment I knew I needed a way out. I wasn’t happy.

Long story short, I’ve been slowly healing. It may seem reductive to compress years of recovery into just a few words, but healing is a circular journey of steadier ups and downs. I may not be 100% there yet, but I’m getting closer. I just know.

Today, I made a mistake at work. While my heart sank a little, I didn’t hyperventilate. I apologized to my manager and moved on. I’m human. I’m prone to making mistakes sometimes—and that’s okay.