You’re going to fuck up, and plenty. And that’s okay. What will not be okay is letting those fuck ups make you believe you are a fuckup. Take it from me, I’ve fucked up lots.
The thing is, fucking something up is one of the fastest ways to learn. You try, you fail, you do better next time. Experience and failure are great teachers; seek experience without fearing failure. But also, prepare. Learn how to open your parachute before jumping out of a plane. The more you know to begin with, the faster you’ll catch on, and the less you’ll die.
Let’s start with well-intentioned fuckups. Sometimes, a lack of knowledge or experience leads to failure. And these are the ones I’d tell you to embrace. Fall off your bike. Embarrass yourself at a talent show. Start a business and fail. It’ll suck, but you’ll learn. Give yourself the freedom to try and fail.
If you’re so afraid of failure that you never try new things, you’ll never try new things. If you’re okay with never trying new things, I am a fuckup of a father and you should disregard everything else I’ve written here. Go out there, get after it, and fail your way forward. Try, fall, get up, and try again. For more on this kind of grit, read Angela Duckworth’s Grit: The Power of Passion and Perseverance.
Assuming you’re still with me, let’s talk poorly-intentioned fuckups. Ones where you knew better and did it anyway. These can be single choices or systemic life mistakes. And with these, the difference between fucking up and becoming a fuckup is whether or not you learn from these mistakes.
When it comes to fuckups like these, if you find yourself making the same mistake over and over, you need to get your head out of your ass and figure out what you’re missing. I got a DUI the week after I turned 30. I had one drink too many, was driving a couple friends home from a bar, and was just over the limit to drive. I blew a .09 in a state with a .08 limit. While this sounds like bad luck, I couldn’t have been luckier if I’d blown a leprechaun.
See, it wasn’t an innocent mistake, and it wasn’t the first time I’d done it. It was just the first time I got caught. My head had been planted firmly in my ass. It cost me several thousand dollars in legal fees and fines, I had to spend most of a night in jail, lost my license for a year, and did an assload of community service. But nobody died. No idiots were harmed in the learning of this lesson, (myself included). And as ashamed as I am of that fuckup, I learned from it. That was a mistake I have not and will not make again.
It’s possible to fuckup on a larger scale, possibly altering the course of your life. My freshman year in college was not spent studying. Rather, I spent my time pledging a fraternity, sleeping (both in my bed and in class), and drinking too much Busch Light. The magnitude of my fuckup didn’t really hit home until that summer when my second semester grades landed in the mailbox. I’d aimed for mediocrity and missed. I had a 1.75 GPA for the Spring semester. This was after an underwhelming 2.5 from my first semester, and I got the talking to from your grandparents I well deserved. They also pointed out that their very generous funding of my college education would end after 4 years, whether or not I’d graduated.
Credit where it’s due, that ultimatum helped change my attitude; I got my shit together and graduated in 4 years with honors. Even when you’ve systemically fucked up and made multiple mistakes that have left you well behind, it’s possible to get your shit together and do better. I was lucky enough to have great parents who were there with a boot in the ass when I needed it. And I can promise your mother and I will be right there behind you if you need the same.
Doing better means learning from your mistakes and not letting them define you. And believe me, I could go on and on about all the ways I’ve fucked up along the road to becoming your Dad, but at some point it stops being a lesson and turns into me thinking of myself as a fuckup. Which would be a pretty fucked up way to end this bit of advice.
To recap, try new things, don’t be afraid to fail, and keep trying if you do. When your failures turn into fuckups, figure out what you did wrong and stop doing it.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.