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.

Unexpected proposal leaves me pondering my craving to be loved
No ebooks for me: Reading is about more than simply absorbing data
Why can beauty hurt so much? Why do I see her face in the sky?
For an American church, the Fourth of July should be just another day
Tuesday’s Senate vote reminds me of German ‘Enabling Act’ of 1933
We rarely have wisdom we need ’til it’s too late to avoid mistakes
At life’s end, who we’ve loved will matter more than what we’ve owned
Real love is spiritual experience that connects me to the cosmos