Using the need to be right to change and grow.
As I discussed in the first part of this series, we’re raised to believe there’s one reality, one right version of what is, while in fact, there are 8.2 billion realities, different versions of what happened, what is, being lived simultaneously on this one planet. None of which would be a challenge except for the fact that we each think our version of reality is reality—not just our reality but everyone’s reality.
Often, the fight to be right, at its core, is a fight to be heard, respected, and validated. If you can prove you’re right, that your version of reality is the truth, then you feel justified, heard, and understood. You matter.
What’s odd is that we can get caught in fighting about the smallest and most insignificant things, to determine we know better and have the correct answer. I recently watched a grown man vehemently argue with his 6-ish-year-old son about whether Captain Crunch cereal used to come with blueberries or strawberries, with the father willing to go to the mat and upset his son about it being strawberries. And indeed, it can feel incredibly difficult to pull ourselves out of a fight-to-be-right loop, even if we know we’re caught and even if we know that what we’re arguing about is ridiculous.
So, what strategies can you use to let go of the fight, when you’re in the thick of it, regardless of whether you know you’re right and the other person is wrong?
The first step, before you do anything else, is to simply take a deep breath and acknowledge that you’re caught, stuck in the rabbit hole of right and wrong. In that moment, offer yourself compassion for how difficult a place this is to be, to feel compelled to prove you’re right, and have your teeth sunk into this battle no matter how much you care or don’t care about what you’re fighting for. Acknowledging your present caught-ness and the anxiety and discomfort of it is the first step in getting free from it.
Secondly, ask yourself, if you were to win this fight and prove you’re right, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that Captain Crunch had strawberries and not blueberries, then what would you get to feel? What would you prove about yourself? In what way would you feel relieved? In addition, what experience has been triggered in you: do you feel invalidated, humiliated, not enough, or disrespected? What’s the real battle about; what’s at stake, which is probably something deeper—about you? But ultimately, the idea is to go deeper, pull the lens back past the berries, and get curious (without judgment) about why it feels so critical to prove you’re right in this circumstance. Pull out of the fight for a moment, place a hand on your heart, take a breath, and bring some compassion to the core wound or threat, something you’ve obviously lived that’s painful, and that feels so in danger here.
At the same time, it’s important to remind yourself that the other person you’re fighting with probably lives in an entirely different reality than yours, and the one you’re assuming. That said, your version of right might be (and probably is) radically different than theirs. Particularly with subjective experience, the other person’s truth, their version of what happened is simply different than yours. And, here’s the kicker: both can be true. Coexisting and different truths. Even when it seems entirely clear cut, like the fact that the captain’s berries were red, not blue, still the other’s memory of it, their version of it in their mind—for whatever reason—is different than yours. And I repeat, for whatever reason, which is not the same as yours, and often not important to figure out.
Ask yourself too: does any of this really matter? The fact is, in many cases, none of it really matters, none of the specifics you’re arguing about make any difference in the long run. In five years or five minutes, will any of this matter? Usually the answer is no. That said, if you can let go of the fight now, it will literally disappear—cease to exist.
Finally, ask yourself: are you willing to do something different, to challenge yourself, take a chance, and drop the whole battle for your rightness, no matter how life-and-death it feels in the moment? Are you willing to change who and how you are, and how you actually behave, which in this case, would mean turning away from the question of right and wrong and turning into this present moment? Are you willing to let the past be however it was and see what’s here in the present moment if this battle evaporated, or in this case, were dropped—by you? Are you bold enough to, just now, take a deep breath (or three), and come back to what’s here if there is no fight?
Because ultimately, if you are not engaging in the battle for rightness, to prove you’re not wrong, the question itself usually vanishes. While it may not always feel like it, in fact, you have a choice in what your now contains, the reality you’re creating and living in this moment. So choose wisely and in a manner that takes good care of you in a more thoughtful, self-compassionate, and ultimately effective way.
