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Freedom to Fail

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When I was a little girl, my mom liked to carve out time between herย full-time job and the busyness of day-to-day life to sew dresses for me. If I had a preference, she’d let me pick out the fabric or pattern. One dress in particular, she let me pick the fabricโ€”and I picked something that looked like it might not go together well. She asked if I was sure, but I was.

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