For whatever reason, I'm not a guy who can learn from others' mistakes. I have to feel the sting before I can realize that something is a bad decision or that someone is bad for me. Sure, I've got common sense and have kept myself out of potentially harmful relationships or from making potentially catastrophic decision, but many times I've still needed to get burned to understand that putting my hand in the (figurative) fire isn't a good idea.
We're not talking huge things, mind you, but big enough for me to be affected.
I made some bad decisions affect my mindset far longer than they should have.
While reading a column by one of my favorite sportswriters Bill Simmons (can't believe I just admitted that, but I guess after reading a vast majority of his columns and his 700-page book, I suppose it's true), I came across something he said while talking about Tiger Woods.
He's been beaten down for his transgressions -- not just his actions, but the backlash that stemmed from it -- and it altered everything about his life. But at The Masters he finally started playing like the old Tiger, the one that captivated audiences and left courses smoldering from his inferno. Here's what Simmons said, when talking about what he's supposed to say to his son when talking about Tiger:
"I am supposed to think that he's a poor role model -- that he's an adulterer, that he's selfish, that he's a phony, that he behaves badly on golf courses, that he's someone I wouldn't want my son to emulate some day. That's horses---. I want my son to know that people screw up, that nobody is perfect, that you can learn from your foibles. I want my son to watch "The Natural" someday, hear Roy Hobbs say, "Some mistakes you never stop paying for," and know that it's not just words in a movie. I want my son to know that you haven't lived until you've fought back, that you haven't won until you've lost, that you can't understand what it's like to relish something until you've suffered, too. I want him to understand that it's the 21st century, that we sit around picking our heroes apart all day, that we expect them to be superhuman at all times, that we get pissed off when they aren't, that it's hypocritical if you really think about it."
A couple lines stopped me dead in my tracks while reading. Clearly, I'm no hero, and I've never done anything so bad as Tiger's poor marital decisions, so it's a little different. But maybe I needed to read that line about living. And losing. And suffering. And maybe I needed to give myself a break for not being perfect. The only thing a perfectionist really knows is the life-long struggle to be something that can never be attained. Maybe it's OK to realize that last part.
The last few months, I've really been trying to find me again. Sure, we all change, but it just felt like something was "off". Bit by bit I've been making strides toward finding that lost man, reconciling what happened to me and my past decisions that may have affected those things. I am not perfect, but I don't have to be. Simply a human, on the verge of reclaiming everything.
