Faulty

As a small boy, I grew up with the nagging suspicion that my life was one grand parade of shortcomings. The surrounding adults never hesitated to point out what I needed to fix: chores left undone, lessons half-learned, ways I failed to measure up. After a while, their voices clung to me, and I became convinced—I must be fundamentally flawed.

It was the way of the world back in the 1940s and 50s. We children weren’t handed compliments or told how wonderful we were. Instead, we existed under a watchful eye, our faults charted like constellations for constant correction. For some, it became a full-time job.

But time has a way of turning the tables. As a teenager, I suspected the adults were wrong about me. I noticed I wasn’t nearly as faulty as they claimed, so I quietly pushed back. By the time I graduated high school in 1959, I was ready to steer my ship, leaving behind the scrutiny—except, of course, for my boss at work. Yet even there, the annual performance review was direct but fair, never dredging up imaginary faults.

Maturity, however, brings its own revelations. As an adult, I recognized a troubling habit: ignoring problems until they boiled over, only to react with outsized anger. I could lash out, sharp and sudden, at those closest to me—my children, even my late ex-wife. Sure, they may have needed a correction, but my response was more fiery than fair.

In my fifties, I set about changing that. I’ve made progress—now, more often than not, I let the steam out early, stopping tempers before they burn out of control. My wife will tell you I’m still quick to get aggravated, and she’s probably right. But I swear it keeps my inner balance steady—or at least, steadier than in the old days.

Recently, out of curiosity, I asked my wife what faults she has. She couldn’t think of a single one. Pretty impressive, I’ll grant, though I mentioned—gently—that her resistance to change might count. She disagreed (naturally), and we shared a smile.

Khalil Gibran once said, “Our worst fault is our preoccupation with the faults of others.” For my part, I don’t think that’s one of mine—though, with age, I realize perhaps the most important thing: We all have faults. The trick is not in hiding them, but in growing through them.