Navigating You and Me with Love and Compassion: Can Being Wrong Be Alright?

Everyday Dilemma: Should I point out my thinking and doing is right, even though you’re telling me I’m wrong? Or, should I take the high road, avoid conflict, and let you believe I’m wrong and you’re right?

‘You’re wrong!’ Those words were a red flag to my bull. I love being right; and I hate being wrong. Regrettably, my demand to never be wrong dominated my relationships.

If anyone so much as hinted I was mistaken or incorrect, I leaped into verbal fisticuffs. Emotionally, I panicked – as if my very life were in danger. My body tensed, my face hardened, my breathing stopped – and then to prove them wrong, I pounced on their thinking with every vocal jab I had.

My physical life wasn’t at risk; but my sense of self definitely felt in jeopardy. My partner and I constantly fought over who was right and who was wrong. The conclusion felt like a matter of life or death!

It got so bad we decided to try something different: Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays he got to be right. I begrudgingly yielded to his opinions and perceptions as correct. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, I got to be right; and he acquiesced to me. (I loved that!) Sundays, we consciously put the argument to rest, agreeing to not ask the question, privately or out loud. This distance offered a new perspective.

It didn’t really matter if I was right or wrong – except to my ego. The argument wasn’t about surviving; it was about my unwillingness to feel my wounded pride! I laughed at my absurdity; hurt pride and embarrassment couldn’t kill me. Simultaneously, I embraced my fragile, delicate, and wobbling self-esteem.

Feeling you have to be right (and not wrong) is often a daily challenge in relating. You place a high value on your opinions and perceptions because you unconsciously believe they reflect reality, truth, and – who you are. Deem your opinion wrong, and you’re wrong. Challenge your opinion, and your identity feels challenged.

I always felt backed into a corner. Others say it’s like having their nose to the wall, or watching a big annoying boulder fall across the road, demanding consideration before they’re free to go on.

Being wrong didn’t end my world - or me. When there are two private worlds – yours and mine – there are two different points of view. Both are valid, reflecting each individual’s perspective.

In amazement, I realized there could be two rights! Relaxing with being wrong meant I could enjoy others being right – a great relief for everyone. I learned a wonderful lesson; it’s alright to be wrong. It gave me flexibility and new strategies for dealing with issues of fact vs. fiction.

I still love being right; but I no longer feel I’m in front of a death squad when someone says I’m wrong. Being right isn’t usually worth fighting for; when it is, I do; and when it isn’t, I now have the option to smile, let go, and move on.

Living fully requires being both right and wrong. The hidden harmony between the two brings you balance – and access to greater wisdom and compassion. Both will ask you to dance. Say ‘yes’ to both invitations with a grateful chuckle. You’ll waltz more gracefully through the day; and see more clearly this mysterious flow of Life expressing itself through me and through you.