I Became the Recordman Without Even Trying

There was silence in the meeting room. We were discussing a mistake, but no one wanted to own it.

Not long ago, we had a team meeting at work. We were addressing a recurring issue—not just a one-off slip, but something that felt systemic. The atmosphere was strange. Quiet. We asked everyone to speak up if they knew what had happened, or if they had been involved. No one did.

That’s when our marketing director remarked—genuinely—that I seem to be the company’s recordman when it comes to admitting mistakes.

I’ve written before about how I view mistakes. There are several blog posts where I openly describe specific situations where I messed up, and what I learned from them. But this moment made me reflect on something else. Not what happened—but why admitting mistakes comes so naturally to me.

For me, it’s simple. I have a goal. I pursue it. And when I fall, I let people know, get back up, and keep going. I fall, scrape my knees, tell others it happened, clean the wounds, and move on. And yes, I fall again. And get back up again.

The older I get, the more I notice that this way of thinking isn’t as common among my peers. For some reason—still a mystery to me—grown-ups often feel the need to project an image of flawlessness. An image of control. Even when it’s painfully obvious they’re falling, confused, or bleeding at the knees with no idea what to do.

This post isn’t trying to explain it. Honestly, I don’t know why it’s like that. Somehow, for most adults, what others think of them matters more than what’s actually true. I wish I understood how that helps them.

Small children are different. They treat mistakes as part of the game. As part of learning. They learn faster. And more honestly. They don’t pretend to know everything or have it all figured out. Quite the opposite—their curiosity and openness to say “I fell” is exactly what helps them grow.

And if that makes me childish, so be it. Children live a truer life than most adults. And maybe not just in this.