The One Question That Stops Me From Ruining Good Relationships
403 words on needing to be right
Welcome to issue #123 of Beyond Self Improvement. Every Wednesday, I send an essay with practical ideas for finding personal freedom in an unfree world.
Dear Friend,
My first girlfriend and I were standing in the kitchen of an 800-square-foot, post-WWII home, arguing about the direction of the Rocky Mountains.
“They're west of Denver," she said.
“No," I said. "Denver is surrounded by mountains."
She laughed. “What are you talking about? They run straight, north-south, west of the city.”
I doubled down. “No, Denver is in a bowl of mountains. That's why there's so much smog,” I added for credibility.
By then, I knew I was wrong. But I said it anyway. Why? Because I’d already made myself right. Because backing down felt like losing, as if whatever remained of my ego would die in that small, carpeted room.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, you're ridiculous."
Then she walked off like people do when you make being right more important than being close. I stood there alone, feeling the residue of my pride.
Fast-forward eight years and three states west, my ex-wife and I are throwing a Sunday brunch for friends in a Spanish-style duplex overlooking a trellis of roses resembling a wedding set. One of our friends, a PhD student studying psychology, said something I’ll never forget:
“When I’m absolutely, positively convinced I’m right, I ask myself: Would I bet my life on it?”
It was one of those rare aha moments. Finally, I thought, a way to get out of having to be right, to "step out of the bureaucracy of the ego," as Chögyam Trungpa put it.
I realized then I wouldn't bet my life on anything. Not the color of the sky. Not the law of gravity. And certainly not a memory from a road trip to Moab by way of Denver seven years ago.
And yet I've been willing to gamble relationships, connection and self-respect in the name of being right. Over what? The shape of a mountain range? Now I ask the question. Not always, but regularly.
Because when you stop needing to be right, you start remembering what matters.
Would I bet my life on this?
If not, maybe I don’t need to make myself right and the other person wrong. Perhaps I don't need to make anyone right or wrong. Maybe I can let go of certainty and rest in the mystery of not knowing.
Because the cost of being right just might be being alone.
Keep returning to what matters,
Ryan
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Sam Harris has engendered the value of getting it right over being right for this dude.
Getting it right is what we truly want anyway. We certainly don't want to get things wrong. Allowing myself to get something wrong is the very moment I am potentially closer to getting it right. Most of the time, I am officially more right once I admit I am wrong.
So being wrong is my direct path to getting something right, basically.
I was really struck by your phrase, “the bureaucracy of the ego.” That perfectly captures the feeling of being trapped in a cycle of needing to be right. It’s as though our egos have created this elaborate system of rules and regulations, dictating who gets to be correct and who doesn’t. It becomes exhausting! And what is it all for? Just to feel like we’ve “won” some small, inconsequential battle? That line really made me consider how much energy I’ve wasted on those battles. It’s a reminder that sometimes stepping outside that “bureaucracy” is the most liberating thing we can do.
Plus, bureaucracies.... Ugh.