I walked up to the microphone, using all of my energy to remind myself to balance and put one foot in front of the other. To my left were the other spelling bee competitors. To my right was the rest of the school. I glanced at the audience for a moment, holding my breath. My friends and teachers were smiling, cheering me on. I continued to scan the people and their faces, trying to figure out their thoughts. If I mess up, what will happen? Will I still be able to get A’s if I fail? How much of my future depends on this moment? As I became lost in thought, I found my parents. They sat in the back of the gym and smiled. For a moment, I let myself lock eyes with my mom. She wore more formal clothes than usual and had made sure her black hair was in a neat ponytail. Excitement and pride shone in her eyes. You can do this. I love you.

I was not going to fail.

I blocked out all the faces and expectations they may hold, trying desperately to be able to wake from the dream it seemed I was in. Focus! I made it to the microphone and could barely process what was going on around me, only thinking about how I would not mess up this early in the competition or my future would change forever. Somewhere in the loss of focus, I heard the word marble.

Marble. M-a-r-b-l-e, I thought, almost letting a relieved smile show. What an easy word. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind about how to spell it. Fortunately, my family has always put extra emphasis on the importance of reading and learning new words. I knew where many people would make a mistake — they would struggle with the ending, perhaps spelling it m-a-r-b-e-l. Thank goodness I knew this word! I spelled it in my head one more time, my mind still hazy but trying to focus on nothing other than each letter. When I felt ready, I took a breath and moved closer to the microphone — along with the entire room of expectations.

“Marble,” I timidly began, startled by the sound of my voice being heard somewhere outside of my home. I hoped the microphone couldn’t catch the tremble in my voice or the increase in my heart rate. I looked around the room again. If I could see anything with my eyes, then I wasn’t able to process it. I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail.

“Incorrect!” I heard a voice saying. Was it in my head? How I wished it was…

My mind must have been on autopilot. Slowly, I recalled what I had said: “Marble. M-a-r-b-e-l. Marble.”

As I was knocked out of the competition, I put all my energy into walking to the back of the gym. Tears in my eyes, I found my mom and stumbled over to her embrace, unsure how life would change now that the worst had happened. How could I be so stupid?

The next day, I was reluctant to meet anyone’s eye, certain I was below their expectations. I soon realized, however, that students were walking to their classes and teachers were continuing instruction as normal. Puzzled, I stopped and reflected on the event. Hitting me as even more of a surprise, I soon realized that I was still breathing. Did I make a mistake? Yes. Did everyone know my mistake? Yes.

Slowing down my thoughts, I took a deep breath in. I knew everyone made mistakes, but when I did, it always seemed like more. It always seemed like the world was crumbling. To this day, I think I will always feel this way.

But doesn’t Mom still love me? Thinking back, she supported me with no hesitation, even after I had failed. Everyone else had done the same. It was just me who had created most of the pressure. Could I try to improve?

I let the breath out and closed my eyes. Yes. I knew I could do better next time, and not just regarding my skills to spell words out loud.

I reminded myself to balance and put one foot in front of the other, knowing I would never be perfect and accepting my mistake as the past.