“Insanity: doing the same thing over  and over again and expecting different results.” — Albert  Einstein

Picture it: 1998.

Actress, rapper and former Fugees member, Lauryn  Hill , layers fiercely feminist principles of self-love and  relationship empowerment over hip-hop rhythms for her debut solo CD, The  Miseducation of Lauryn Hill.

Her soul-searing ballads and hard-hitting rhymes about fakers, perpetrators  and irresistible bad boys earned her millions in CD sales along with five Grammy  Awards , and almost single-handedly cemented her status as an  iconic example of young womanhood.

What a difference a decade makes.

Now, her superstar status has faded to a twinkle, a professional decline that  coincided with a turbulent romance. A woman who once sang warnings about “pretty  faced” baby-makers couldn’t resist one herself.

Hill’s 10-year union with Rohan Marley produced five babies (and, allegedly,  many infidelities). It also seemed to drain her artistic ambitions to  practically nil. Then, in 2011, just as Hill seemed ready to return to the  spotlight, the father of her children publicly declared that baby No. 6 wasn’t  his.

Ca-lassy.

If it seems like I’m picking on Ms. Hill as even more sordid news has  surfaced (her prince of an ex is now engaged to the model he allegedly cheated  on her with) or exalting myself as being above reproach in my own prior  relationships, I’m not. I honestly want the best for Lauryn as a fan and a  fellow sister, since we’re both among millions of other women who have made rash  judgments in choosing partners to love, live and procreate with.

Thankfully, in my case, there wasn’t an heir to a reggae empire or a team’s  worth of back-to-back babies, but I did fall in love with a man who produced  more ideas and aspirations than accomplishments.

I tried my best to adjust and encouraged him often to improve the situation,  but six frustrating years and a toddler son later, I realized that I was no  longer willing to carry the weight of a household with a non-ambitious  intellectual who felt entitled to “the good life” but wasn’t moved enough to  work toward achieving it. And when my efforts to improve the status quo were met  with resentment, I filed for divorce.

Looking back, I’m grateful for our son and the lessons I received about  trusting my inner voice and finally feeling worthy of a man who could walk it  like he talked it. If I had chosen to settle for what little my ex wanted to  give, I would’ve remained stuck in survival mode, encouraging Darius to act the  same way with his own future family.

I would have been too stressed to work toward becoming a freelance writer,  missing out on interviewing legendary performers I’d once only admired from  afar. And I wouldn’t have earned the opportunity to become a columnist to write  what you’re reading right now.

But the most frightening prospect of all is that I would have missed out on  being Calvin’s wife and the proud mother of Nia and Layla, three people who have  enriched my life and my son’s in ways that I only imagined.

Like the old adage says, the problem isn’t in making mistakes, but in  failing to learn from them. And as our children grow older and experience  romance for themselves, hopes may be dashed and hearts will  get broken, but Calvin and I will be able to offer our experiences to ensure  they don’t waste too many years wishing for change with the wrong person.

In Hill’s more unfortunate case, it’s a taunting twist that lyrics in one of  her biggest hits (1998’s “Doo Wop [That Thing]”) reflected a wisdom that  millions of her fans internalized and she dubiously ignored: “Money-taking,  heart-breaking, now you wonder why women hate men … Stop acting like boys and be  men. How you gon’ win when you ain’t right within? Uh-uh, come again.”

Indeed, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got to do better and demand better. Come  again.

http://www.dallasnews.com/lifestyles/columnists/lorrie-irby-jackson/20120517-learning-from-mistakes-provides-fuel-for-growth.ece