Lessons vs Mistakes

The Day I Learned the Difference Between a Lesson and a Mistake

So picture this. One night I’m out with my cousin and his wife. If you know me, you already know that me and this cousin have a long, fiery history, especially when politics hits the table. We love each other, but we’re like oil and holy water. You already know that combo doesn’t mix.

The night went downhill fast. He got loud, I matched energy (because I’m not built to sit silent), and before I knew it, his wife and son were holding him back and it went from zero to chaos. And me? Yeah, I said some shit later, texted things I’m not proud of. Angry, emotional, human things.

The next morning, I woke up with that pit in my stomach, shame, embarrassment, regret. That “oh, fuck” feeling that just sits heavy. It played on repeat in my head all day. But somewhere in that mess of emotions, I had a realization: I’m never doing that again. Not because of them, but because I don’t ever want to feel like this again.

That moment? That was the shift from mistake to lesson. Because here’s the thing, people hold therapists to a higher standard, like we’re supposed to float above conflict or never lose our shit. But guess what? I’m still human. I’ve got trauma that still lurks, buttons that still get pushed, and emotions that still bleed through. Being a therapist doesn’t make me immune to pain, it just means I’m self-aware enough to face it afterward instead of pretending it’s not there.

And yeah, people love to use that against us. “You’re a therapist, you should know better.” I do know better, but knowing and being perfect are two very different things. Knowing better means I reflect, I own it, I grow. That’s the real work.

To add some context, a year before all this, I’d gone through my own health battle, the kind that changes how you see everything, that strips away the bullshit and gives you a clearer lens of who people really are. You’d think that kind of shit would make people more compassionate, but it doesn’t always. That’s where I learned to choose peace over reaction. Some people will still come at you sideways no matter what you’re carrying, and that’s when I learned one of the hardest lessons of all: I can’t control how others act, but I can control how I respond, who gets my energy, and how much of my peace I’m willing to give away. I can control my space, and that’s power, my power.

So yeah, I learned mine. I’ll still speak up (I’m not built for silence or complicity), but I won’t trade my peace just to win a fight. Not with family, not with anyone.

Because mistakes make you feel bad. Lessons make you better. And I’ll keep choosing to be the holy water, even if it burns when it hits.

Be good to yourself.

Jennifer Kelley, LMSW-CCATP