By Joe Byerly
Now that I’m a parent of kids who are getting older, I find myself wanting to play more “life defense”—to protect them from the bruises and blows of growing up: failure, misfortune, consequences.
I think we all do this to varying degrees. We want to shield our children from pain—pain we’ve felt ourselves, the kind that still sits heavy in our memories.
But sometimes, we can’t.
Sometimes, they have to touch the stove. Face the facts. Learn the lesson.
As I wrestle with the instinct to jump in and save, I’ve been reflecting on the origin stories of my own successes. Every single one began with failure; with pain. I had to feel many of life’s early lessons to learn about perseverance, grit, and character.
I had to learn to say the words to myself: “Never again.”
And I had to hear those words in my own voice—not from a parent, mentor, or even my spouse.
Now I realize: those failure stories were prerequisites. They gave me the tools and the lessons I would need later, often in more critical moments.
I had to struggle at 16 in order to endure at 33.
I had to get pinned on a high school wrestling mat in 12 seconds to one day lead groups of soldiers through 27 months of combat deployments.
I had to open a letter that told me I wasn’t smart enough to get into the United States Military Academy, to eventually return there years later, not as a cadet, but as a Non-Resident Fellow at the Modern War Institute.
I had to be told I didn’t possess what it takes to be a midshipman at the Naval Academy in 1999, to graduate near the top of my class from the Naval War College in 2015
I had to fail, to win.
I recently read about Winston Churchill—how he was laughed out of office during World War I and spent over a decade in what’s been called his “wilderness years.” That fall gave him space to discover painting, deepen friendships, and study the lessons of warfare; preparing him for the storm to come. “As one’s fortunes are reduced,” he wrote to his wife, “one’s spirit must expand to fill the void.”
Maybe that’s one of the great gifts of failure, regardless of when it comes at us: it makes room for our spirit to grow.
So even though it’s hard to watch our kids struggle, and even though every instinct says to swoop in and fix it, sometimes the most important thing we can do is gently wash off the scrape, pull them in close, and give them space for their spirit to grow.
Joe Byerly is a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel with 20 years of service, including tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and command of a cavalry squadron in Europe. He earned numerous prestigious awards, including multiple Legion of Merits, Bronze Stars, the Purple Heart, and General Douglas MacArthur Leadership Award. In 2013, Joe founded From the Green Notebook.
A passionate advocate for self-knowledge through reading and reflection, he authored The Leader’s 90-Day Notebook and co-authored My Green Notebook: “Know Thyself” Before Changing Jobs, a resource for leaders seeking greater self-awareness. If this post resonated with you or sparked any questions, feel free to reach out to him at Joe@fromthegreennotebook.com.
