Issue #139 | October 9, 2026 | Previous issues​

Hey Reader,

Have you ever said to yourself: I could have done better!

Oh my.

That's probably my favorite thing to say to beat myself up and feel like a total failure.

This past Monday evening was a perfect example.

I stood at a podium in our local library, with roughly fifty or so people in the audience, and read two pieces of my writing.

It's hard enough to read what someone else wrote in public. But reading your own writing? That takes vulnerability to a whole new level.

I was looking forward to it, though.

This was a wonderful opportunity to put my vulnerable, shy, writer-self out there.

I prepared ahead of time (of course) to feel less nervous. I read my pieces over and over to get the voice and intonation right. I wanted to be perfect.

But I was beyond nervous. I thought I was going to have a heart attack as I walked up to the microphone!

I tried every trick in the book to stay calm. I did deep breathing. I rubbed my chest. I told myself I wasn't performing on a stage. I was simply reading and hoping my audience would connect to my character and her longing.

And just because I love to torture myself. I asked a friend to record me.

That was probably a mistake. LOL.

When I watched the recordings later that night, I was devastated.

I read well, but that wasn’t what I wanted.

I wanted to bring the characters to life. To relax into the stories and let the audience feel what I felt when I wrote them.

And I believe I failed.

Funny enough, my friend Denise, who also read that evening, sent me a lovely message afterward.

She said she could feel Lila's angst and eagerness to escape the town and way of life holding her back. She even said I read with passion.

Imagine that!

Apparently, Denise and I attended two entirely different readings. 😂

Of course, I appreciated her kind words. But I had the recordings. I knew what I’d heard.

I could have done better.

There’s that sentence again.

I could have written a better story. I could have given a better reading. I could make a better dinner. I could handle conversations better.

And the truth is, I probably can do better.

Couldn’t we say that about almost everything we do?

Recently, I spoke to my life coach about perfectionism and fear of failure.

She asked me to define success. Not according to someone else’s expectations, but according to mine. "Be specific," she said.

What would success look like if I stopped measuring it only by the finished result?

What if I measured success by how much I learned instead?

We talked about learning and growing. About doing things we love, even when we haven’t developed the skills to do them as well as we’d like...yet.

And then she suggested something rather radical.

Stop saying, “I could have done better.”

Because that sentence can stop the learning process in its tracks.

I judge my performance, find it lacking, and stay stuck there. Defeated.

She encouraged me to become curious instead.

What did I learn?

What would I like to research or practice?

What do I want to implement next time?

And how do I want to grow?

I love that last question.

Because wanting to do something well doesn’t mean I already have the ability to do it well.

A want isn’t a capability yet.

I want to be able to read my stories in a way that brings the characters to life.

Wonderful!

Now I get to learn how.

I can study the recordings, notice where I rushed or held back, experiment with pauses and expression, and try again.

In fact, I can do all of that without being devastated by the fact that I haven’t mastered it yet.

One antidote to perfectionism isn’t lowering our standards or convincing ourselves that everything we do is wonderful.

It’s learning to love the learning process. To become curious instead of critical.

Success isn’t always about how well we did something, but whether we’re willing to learn from doing it.

I'm proud of myself for doing hard things and leaving my comfort zone.

But I still wish I’d read those stories differently.

And I’m still going to practice, because they invited us to come back and read again!

So I’m trading I could have done better for a question that might actually take me somewhere.

What do I want to learn next?

With love,

Anna

P.S. Curious about what we read that evening?

You can read my piece, The Trolley, along with some wonderful stories by my fellow writers here.

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