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.

‘Make no little plans. They have no magic to stir men’s blood… Make big plans’
Hidden chains need to be broken, so I’ve become a reluctant rebel
Hidden crisis of missing intimacy leaves many ‘together all alone’
Self-compassion is difficult when harsh inner judge condemns you
THE McELROY ZOO: Meet Henry, the tiny kitten who was dumped with a broken leg and a big heart
Pursuit of perfection leaves me feeling shame when I’m flawed
As our heroes grow old and die, it’s a reminder of our mortality
Bride is 89 and the groom is 86,