A few months ago, I decided that I wanted to be independent. I had a dependable car already; however, it was still my parents', and I would have to share with my sister. I wanted to buy a car that I could call my own; that I wouldn't have to share, and would be in my name. To prove I was responsible, I went about taking out a loan and searching for cars on my own. I chose a few I wanted to look at, and drove up to Houston. While looking at cars, I told the salesmen I was doing this on my own. I had gotten this far, and I was not turning back. This was my chance to responsible and independent. The salesmen probably chuckled at me, remembering when they were once this naïve and new to the world.

I was thrilled with myself, but the more I looked, the more hope I lost. None of them looked anything like the pictures, and there was something majorly wrong with all of them. I felt defeated. Here I was, trying to make my first major, adult decision -- and I was failing epically. I was ready to give up, and to decide I couldn't do this on my own.

Then, the dealership told me that they had found a few more cars in my price range. I instantly regained my spirits, and I decided to give it one more shot. I instantly fell in love with the bright blue Suzuki Forenza. It wasn't a great car, but it was a cute car and with decent mileage. It would get me where I wanted to go. I decided I would buy it on the spot. I filled out the paperwork, and told them I would come back the next day with the money. I was beyond pleased with myself. This was it. I had purchased my first car.

Exactly a month later, my car battery died. I took it to get a simple battery change, and left feeling the weight of the battery in my broke, college-student budget. Within a few miles, I smelled an awful burning smell. I looked up, and there was a cloud of smoke emitting from under my hood. I actually laughed. "This is just my luck," I thought.

I pulled over to the nearest gas station, and I called my mom to tell her that my car was smoking. She said she would be on her way, but it couldn't have been five minutes later that my car was up in flames. Thankfully, a bystander thought to call 911 when a decent sized cloud of smoke was over my car, because I was in hysterics at this point. My car was on fire. My cute, blue, little Suzuki was on fire. My first adult decision was on fire.

I felt so disappointed in myself. I had spent hours meticulously pouring over cars, filling out loan applications, and stressing out over this major decision -- all for it to go up into flames. Literally. Even worse, this proved my parents right.

My most prevalent thought was, "How can I possibly make major decisions, if this one failed so terribly?" I was ridiculously discouraged. I felt as if this was a foreshadowing of my life to come: putting out fire, after fire, from one failed decision to the next. How would I come back from this?

Eventually, I had to realize this was just a car. This was not a representation of every decision I have made in my life. Granted, I have made some pretty awful decisions, but I have made some pretty wonderful ones. I have decided to go to a university. I have changed my major twice already, but each time was an even better change. I've decided to dye my hair some pretty crazy colors in the past, but I gained self-confidence and expressed myself. I've cut some major people out of my life, but I have also gained even more incredible friends. I have not regressed, without taking two steps forward. I am making progress. Just because I had a setback, does not mean I cannot recover. Your mistakes do not define you.

Just because you messed up once, doesn't mean that is all you are. You are so much more than that, and you can come back from any setback ten times stronger. This is a chance to grow and better yourself; a chance to learn from your mistakes and do better next time. It is better to think of these as learning experiences, rather than failures. It is so easy to get caught up in our mistakes. We let them consume us. They overpower our successes, and we forget about the amazing things we have accomplished.

So, the next time you feel like things are only going to keep rolling down hill from here; the next time you feel hopeless; the next time you feel like quitting -- just remember that you have done so, so many great things, and you will continue to do so much more. That can be the difference between a lifetime of failure, and a lifetime of beautiful success.