When I was 15, I chose French over Spanish. Not because it made sense—I grew up in Southern California, where Spanish was spoken around me daily—but because French felt like an escape. I had seen Breathless and Cleo from 5-7, and the culture seemed elegant, mysterious and romantic. Our teacher decorated the classroom with photos of the Loire Valley and Montmartre, and even our rote vocabulary drills felt cinematic.
But French wasn’t easy for me. The nasal vowels confused me, and passé composé made my brain freeze. I carried that textbook with me everywhere, as if it were a secret lifeline. French became my quiet rebellion during a chaotic childhood. My father was dying, my mom was overwhelmed with foster kids and my world was loud and unpredictable. But French offered structure, beauty and the promise of elsewhere.
Life took over
Eventually, life took over. I would no longer study French at school but would try to practice at home. Later, when my mom showed signs of early Alzheimer’s, I let go of my dream of studying abroad. My French journey faded into another lost ambition.
Years later, walking through New York City, I passed a small French school and walked in on an impulse. I was working on a graduate thesis involving French artists, but also wanted to reconnect with the version of myself who loved learning. Classes were intimate. Even so, I felt out of place. Most of my classmates were polished professionals. I arrived flustered, juggling deadlines and self-doubt. I stumbled through basic sentences. Yet I kept showing up. I didn’t want to give up. I had to reconcile my passion for the subject with the struggle of keeping it in my life.
I was learning that persistence doesn’t always look like progress, it can be as simple as showing up again. It also became clear that my patterns of frustration and impatience with relearning French mirrored struggles in other areas of my life. I overlooked small wins and failed to celebrate my progress.
The mindset shift
Amy Morin, psychotherapist, licensed clinical social worker and author of 13 Things Mentally Strong People Don’t Do, says that’s not unusual. “We tend to tie our identity and our self-worth to being competent,” she explains. “When we’re a beginner at something and our progress is slow, we might view that as proof that we’re not good enough.”
Morin adds that unrealistic expectations can sabotage growth. “When we expect to succeed fast, we may view slow progress as evidence we aren’t ever going to succeed… That can cause us to give up early or burn out,” she says. “If you love doing something, but you insist on mastering it right away, you won’t find joy in the process of learning.”
Then something shifted. One afternoon, the teacher asked me to describe my week in French. My grammar wasn’t perfect, but I managed to get through it with determination. He understood me. For the first time, I truly communicated, and it felt like a breakthrough. That was enough for me to keep trying week after week. I felt the thrill, once again.
Learning through failure
According to Paul Losoff, Psy.D, clinical psychologist and co-founder of Bedrock Psychology Group, failure often feels more threatening in adulthood because our sense of worth becomes tied to outcomes. “Many lose sight of the concept of unconditional self-worth…” he says. “As we grow, our… worth becomes increasingly tied to external conditions and societal expectations.”
Losoff adds that when people “[over-invest] their identity into the notion of success, then it’s more risky.” Diversifying interests, he suggests, can help soften the blow of failure and preserve well-being.
This is why adult learning can be so powerful. It asks us to stay with something even when we feel foolish. In education, this is called scaffolding, building on prior knowledge gradually with support that fades over time. A study in Educational Research Review found that scaffolding enhances both competence and autonomy by providing a structured path through early challenges. Additionally, a study in Thinking Skills and Creativity found that students with high levels of academic grit also demonstrated stronger critical thinking and independent learning skills. While the study focused on university students, its findings are broadly applicable to adults navigating long-term goals, professional development or returning to learning later in life.
Morin emphasizes that mindset matters. “Real growth is a gradual process,” she says. “It involves mistakes, patience and practice. It’s often more about those small little mistakes and those things we do on days when we struggle with motivation that set us up for true success.”
Last month, I signed up for Italian. When a friend asked why I would start another language before mastering the one I’d been failing at for years, I laughed and said, “Because I’m learning to love the joyful mess.”
I’m not fluent yet, and I still make embarrassing mistakes. Still, I persevere, day after day. And I’ve come to believe that’s the most successful thing of all.
Photo courtesy of Rido/Shutterstock
