Written by Frani Chung.
I once introduced myself as the Head of Pubic Relations (yes, without the L) to hundreds of people in a company newsletter. At the time, this typo felt world-ending. Now I realize it was just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve made many more profound and deeply embarrassing mistakes since then. So many in fact that I sometimes wonder how I’m still here.
But I am. And so are you–or you wouldn’t be reading this.
Mistakes are part of being human. But in our optimize-the-crap-out-of-everything world, we are hyper-aware of our slip-ups thanks to social media scrutiny showing us how everyone else is doing it better. Not to mention endless self-improvement content designed to make us feel bad about ourselves so we buy more stuff. The modern obsession with life hacking makes us terrified of messing up even one second of our hyperproductive day or, worse, our lives. We manifest greatness but we don’t want to stumble along the way.
In fact, research shows that mistakes help the brain grow. When we make an error, the brain produces an electrical response called the ERN, which happens when it recognizes a challenge or conflict, and according to Stanford Mathematics expert Jo Boaler, we don’t even need to realize we’ve made a mistake for this process to occur. The act of struggling itself stimulates brain growth. Does that mean messing up makes you smarter? Kind of.
It’s about reclaiming our worst moments, turning them into something useful, and reminding ourselves that the messiest parts of life are often the most meaningful.
Sometimes, though, screwing up is the point. Growth often comes from the unplanned and the unpredictable. Cataloging our screw-ups transforms shame into wisdom, fear into resilience, and regret into growth. Instead of burying our mistakes, we can mine them for insight—recognizing the patterns, blind spots, and pivotal moments that shaped who we are today. Our biggest mistakes often come from who we were at the time—our insecurities, and immaturity. Ultimately, cataloging our screw-ups is about self-acceptance. It’s about reclaiming our worst moments, turning them into something useful, and reminding ourselves that the messiest parts of life are often the most meaningful.
Cataloging our screw-ups transforms shame into wisdom, fear into resilience, and regret into growth.
Writing your cringiest moments down will expose them for the what they are – moments in time that you did your best with the tools you had. Often, you can classify them as JAFLO (Just Another F()cking Learning Opportunity) with new knowledge you can take into the future. Most often, once you take them out of your brain and put them onto paper, these cringey moments become relatively insignificant – even funny.
But in fairness, I’ll go first, so you can see how it’s done:
- When I was 4, I named my pet hamster Thomas after a boy I had a crush on in my preschool class. One day, I hugged Thomas a little too hard and got my first lesson in death. I can tell you that I’ll never get the name of any man tattooed on my body because I understand the notion of a fleeting crush. I couldn’t conjure the face of a 4-year-old Thomas if I tried.
- On junior high school graduation day, my mom asked me to go to lunch with her to celebrate. I declined and went to the mall with my then-best friend Keri Gottron and two dudes we liked for five minutes, Brett Audino and Mike Maestrogiovanni. Those guys meant nothing, and I tell my mom, to this day, how much I regret not going to lunch with her. I see her weekly, and there’s not much I’d put in front of a meal with my mother while I still have her in the world.
- I dated someone from JDate because he had a French accent, wore hipster rust-colored pants, and seemed sophisticated because he had his own apartment. Later he made me count his pushups, en francais, and I realized he was a total jerk. I became a woman who put my self-worth before that of a hot stranger.
- When I was in 4th grade, my mom went to a PTA meeting, and I decided I just HAD to have bangs. This was before YouTube and TikTok, so I had no streaming tutorials. I took this task on myself, and the results were not cute. I had to wear headbands for many months, and I was mortified. But today I know that we are more than our worst haircut.
- Some lessons were heavier. I didn’t ask for another saline sonogram before implanting a genetically tested embryo in an IVF procedure. It turns out that I had immense uterine scarring, rendering my body a hostile home for pregnancy, and no embryo would have survived. I didn’t know to make sure that the doctor checked for uterine scarring, and I lost a “genetically normal” embryo. We must advocate for ourselves in all things, especially in healthcare.
- Once, my 2-year-old son walked into a pool and almost didn’t come out. We were with friends, and many kids decided to swim, but ours were eating dinner, so we were not watching the pool. My husband and I were outside at a table a mere few feet away. All of a sudden, we couldn’t find Cooper. Our friend Sam jumped into the pool, fully clothed, when she saw Cooper stuck under a pool float. It was all silent, and it all happened in seconds. He is fine, we are lucky, and I will never lose sight of my children near a pool again.
This afternoon of cataloging my screw-ups was brutal—but revealing. Like Elliott in the movie, I’d go through it all again, even knowing how messy it would get.
Expose the screw ups for the what they are – moments in time that you did your best with the tools you had.
So now, you’re up. It’s time for your very own “Hall of Cringe.” Sit down, make yourself comfortable, and conjure your most mortifying moments. If you’re anything like me, this will make you nauseous. You will get mad at yourself all over again. You will want to stop. But that’s when you know you’re doing it correctly. Take a breath and think about all of the choices you’ve made. Now think of how far you’ve come.
I’ll keep cataloging my screw-ups, because each one is a lesson I needed to learn. And I think you’ll find that in the end, the mess we make is what makes us who we are.
When my kids inevitably make their own mistakes—whether it’s a bad haircut, a wrong date, or something bigger—I won’t just cringe. I’ll let them live through it. Because sometimes, the most valuable lessons come from the things we wish we could undo. And I wouldn’t trade any of mine.
Except maybe that Frenchman. Au Revoir to him.
About the Author:
Frani Chung is a writer who explores the profound, intersecting truths of motherhood, womanhood, parenting, and resilience—where they overlap, clash, and redefine us. A mom of two, she balances her work in integrated brand marketing with a relentless pursuit of the perfect bite, an insatiable love for entertainment and pop culture, and the ever-elusive art of staying present. She is a passionate advocate for reproductive rights and awareness. Find her at www.franichung.com.