For most of my life, I feared being wrong.
What if I say the wrong thing or don’t know what I’m talking about? If I’m wrong, will it make me look stupid?
I often end up over-explaining things or talking in circles in an attempt to make more sense, only to end up not making sense at all. A good majority of my interactions end this way, leaving me walking away feeling incredibly silly.
Sometimes, I can’t even send a text and let it rest; I frequently reopen my messages just to double-check that I’m absolutely sure of what I said so it can’t be misinterpreted.
Whenever I’m wrong about something or when someone doesn’t understand what I’m saying, the shame and embarrassment that wash over me are unnecessarily intense. It almost makes me feel worse to realize how much I care about what other people think of me, but I can’t exactly control my fear either.
When I was in high school, this fear became overwhelming. At a time when everything was already confusing as I was trying to figure out my life and future, my fear of being wrong held me back. Even working with peers on a project was off the table, since I didn’t want to inconvenience them by being wrong or not fully understanding the material, even though I always did just fine.
Throughout my four years in high school, my teachers always made it a point to shove college down our throats, but the thought of it terrified me. What if I chose the wrong school or the wrong major?
I just couldn’t imagine potentially wasting four more years of my life, all because I was wrong and didn’t have my whole life figured out at such a young age.
The thought of college terrified me so much that I didn’t even start applying until April of 2024, a little over a month before my graduation. I barely met application deadlines because of this, which terrified me even more.
In the end, I only applied to three colleges: Eureka, Augustana and Bradley.
Turns out, my fear came true. I chose the wrong school.
In August of 2024, I started my first semester at Augustana College. I moved into the dorms with my best friend from high school and started class three days later.
By week three, I became very ill. It got to the point where I had to call my parents to help me move back home. I felt a breeze of temporary relief when I was able to sleep in my own bed for the first time in three weeks. That relief went as quickly as it came, as I realized my life wouldn’t stop just because I’d escaped my mistakes this one time.
I was miserable there, but even worse, I was wrong. My fears and anxieties became more overwhelming than ever before. This is my future, and I messed it up because of one wrong decision.
Eventually, I found a school that actually made me feel comfortable in my decisions. Bradley may not be a top-notch Ivy League school, but I am so thankful that all the times I was wrong led me to where I am today.
The biggest lesson I have learned from my fears surprisingly doesn’t even come from my college journey. It actually comes from my guitar teacher, Damien, who I have worked with since I was 13 years old.
During one of our lessons a few weeks ago, Damien asked me why I am so scared of being wrong. I couldn’t answer. He then asked, “If you are living in fear of making mistakes, then how are you supposed to succeed?”
That changed a lot. I think, finally, I’ve realized that if I continue to fear my mistakes – fear being wrong – then I will never learn. I can’t grow and move on from my mistakes if I’m constantly obsessed with never making them in the first place.
As Damien once told me, it’s time to finally break out of my shell of fear and care not what others will think of me. Because, at the end of the day, I’m not living my life for them. I’m doing it for me.
