I've had quite a few stinkers in my day. The first (and only) bolero I tried to make for myself wouldn't fit a toddler, I've got a half finished cardigan that looks more like a rug, and today I tried to make stash-busting coasters for our coffee table. Tried. Failed. It looks like a box of Crayolas exploded. For every nice thing that I make, I've probably got ten or twelve (or more) stinkers waiting to be frogged.
Those few nice projects give me hope. I know I can make nice things. I just have to struggle for it. The struggle is good, though, even if it feels terrible at the time. In every horrible project hides a lesson, even if that lesson is that you can't make those colors work together, or that you really should check the gauge more carefully. Or, sometimes, the lesson is simply that not everything that looks nice on the model in the picture will look good on you. As for people who don't struggle, well, I've also learned it is okay to despise them. It's okay though. People like that don't really exist anyway.
Recommended reading: Bird by Bird, by Annie Lamott. True, it's about writing, but the same wit and wisdom goes for any craft that breeds frustration.