Permission to make mistakes

Years ago, while still a young bride, I often made my own dresses, curtains, etc. to help save money in college. Back then, it was actually more affordable to buy a pattern, cloth, thread, etc. and to put in the work required than it is today.

During this time, a friend complimented me on a finished product, expressing a lament that she did not share that particular skill. When I encouraged her to learn some basic sewing techniques, she dismissed the idea as beyond her reach. She stated that she had tried once before, and failed. Therefore, she concluded, it was something she was incapable of learning.

My reaction was to immediately attempt to disabuse her of the notion that one failure was a definitive sign that success was forever beyond her reach. I then recounted to her the many, many, many mistakes I have made over several years, and still do. One of the most frustrating realities about sewing is the patience required to take out stitches, redo seams, or start over altogether.

I then shared what my mother taught me when I was just a beginning seamstress. My mom encouraged me to shop the bargain bin in the fabric store. Her advise was to choose an inexpensive material that I liked. That way, if I was successful in my endeavor I would be pleased to showcase the result. However, if I botched things beyond repair the sting of loss would not be greater than my desire to try again. As I gained confidence and skill I moved beyond the sale rack into finer fabrics with confidence in my abilities to make something presentable.

My friend shocked me when she exclaimed, “Brilliant! Your mother gave you permission to make mistakes.” I had never actually seen this perspective before, but it is correct. When trying to learn something new we must give ourselves permission to make mistakes.

If what we are attempting to learn does not come naturally to us there needs to be a mindset that mistakes are not only inevitable but allowed. It is, after all, through our mistakes that we often learn the most. For instance, it only took one time for me to erroneously sew a pair of pants side to side rather than front to back to remember forever more how to do it correctly. Each unripped seam, tossed project, or do-over, is a lesson marking progress toward becoming competent in something that was once unfamiliar or unknown.