On the night I made the mistake, I had no idea I was doing anything wrong. I was clueless. Even arrogant. Within five or six years, though, I had grown enough — and learned enough about myself — that I had to apologize to someone for that night.
It was about 15 years ago. I was getting to know a woman who I’d recently met. We would go on to date seriously and almost marry. But on that night, we were still getting to know each other. She had graduated from college with an education degree and was about to start teaching. But I thought she was too smart and too capable for teaching school.
I don’t remember how I worded it, but I let her know that I thought she would be wasting herself if that’s what she did with her life. I let her know that she was capable of far more than that — and I subtly made it clear that I would prefer she did something more “impressive.”
I was more concerned that night with what I wanted her to be than with what she wanted. My mind was focused on how her choice would reflect on me. I was blind to my error at the time, but I’m ashamed of it now.

Why is it so hard to make good art? It’s something I’ll never understand
Without courage to take action, day will come when it’s too late
Anatomy of a lie: Why destroy credibility by exaggerating facts?
Nature made me like my mother, but my father tried to erase that
If the state didn’t wither away for Marx and Engels, is there really a post-statist era ahead now?
Dad who made space for daughter reminds me little moments matter
‘Tolerant’ left seethes with hate if you don’t accept ‘gender theory’
Not having someone to hope for differs from pain of missing love