When It's Wrong To Be Right

Who doesn’t want to be right? There’s nothing quite like that self-satisfied and feeling of knowing you are in the know, and knowing that someone else knows it too. It’s very validating -- and sometimes we need validation. When you’re right it’s important that others know you’re right so that they can then use the information, guidance or advice you provide to make everything right with their world. There’s nothing wrong with being a known source of accurate information. When others credit you and acknowledge your rightness, that means there’s a chance you’ll be a good source of information for them in the future. In fact, it’s absolutely necessary that they credit you and acknowledge your rightness, right?

Wrong.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with being right. It’s good to be right so you don’t spend your time going down the wrong path. But always having to be right -- for it’s own sake -- and always having to be acknowledged by people who at first disagree with you that you are in fact and after all right….well, that’s not right.

First of all -- it’s enough to know you are right -- and not for the glory of being right but because it’s good to know correct information. If you are right, and someone disagrees with you, eventually they will come to realize you were right. And that’s good, because then they can go down the right path too. It’s much less important that they give you credit for being right. And it’s rarely worth it if the issue of being right overshadows whatever you are right about.

Picture a scenario where you spend several minutes going back and forth over who is right and who is wrong to the point where the relationship suffers and the issue under discussion is lost. There are people who do that, and do it regularly, and they usually end up by themselves with their self-righteousness.

I just so happen to often be right when my husband and I disagree (initially) about a particular fact. Hey, I read a lot. And I also tend to not be emphatic about things I’m not absolutely sure I’m right about -- so that increases my odds of being right when I take a stand. But I’ll be the first to tell you I’m talking out my hoo hoo if I’m going on a hunch or accidentally making something up.

But when my husband and I disagree about something, and he is convinced he is right, I’ll usually tell him my right answer, he’ll come back with his wrong answer and when it’s clear he’s holding to that position I’ll simply say, “Whatever you say, Dear,” or “You’re right, Honey, what was I thinking,” or something along those lines to put an end to it.

He most likely knows I’m brushing it off…but that’s ok -- it usually turns what could be a tense situation into a humorous one. Being right is not worth haggling over and it’s certainly not worth getting into a full blown fight over. He will eventually find out I’m right. And there is that remote possibility that I’m wrong -- so my bases are covered there too.

Recently I got into this kind of situation with my daughter, who is very firm in her opinions and also often right. We were disagreeing about a really unimportant thing -- something about a sequence of events that had taken place in the past. After a couple of back and forths I said, “I’m sure you’re right, Honey.” She laughed, because she knew what I was doing and I told her that’s what I do with my husband and we stay happy. Whatever we were disagreeing about wasn’t worth spending our time arguing over -- it was really unimportant.

In this instance, I knew either eventually the rightness would be unearthed (she would backtrack and rethink the whole scenario), or it would just be dropped because it wasn’t really significant. Clearly we weren’t going to sort it out then and there, and our relationship was more important than one of us winning. Unfortunately people often let little disagreements like this take on a life of their own, where the rightness itself becomes the focus.

When there is a critical issue, hopefully what’s right will jump to the forefront without question. If it doesn’t, no amount of arguing in the moment will fix it. And how many “who’s right” arguments are about critical issues anyway? Very few.

So express your opinion once -- maybe twice. If you can’t agree, keep your good humor and let it go. It’s never so important simply to be right that it damages your relationships.

Ultimately, the truth will out -- and it really won’t matter who said it.

Speak the Truth Day

Many years ago, when I was a little less patient and understanding than I am now -- and also pretty stressed out by a very demanding workload that seemed out of balance with what the others in my office were doing, I came up the idea that once a month we should have a day when everyone was allowed to say exactly what was on their mind. No “flowering things up”, no editing, no censorship, no hypocrisy. Just “tell it like it is.”

My coworkers said, “No deal.”

The person who was most adamant about not having a "Speak the Truth Day" was the one I most wanted to speak my mind to -- and I’m sure she knew that. In her defense, it would have been harsh and it was a bad idea. I found myself frequently irritated by her -- she was nice, well-meaning and did her job but she was not very smart and I knew I carried an extra load accommodating for that. Then there are just some people who get on your nerves -- and I’ll reveal my dark side in saying she got on mine, and I felt a little bit of twisted pleasure in imagining what a relief it would be to just express myself freely.

Though this idea was dropped like a hot potato, I’m pretty sure it had at least some appeal to others -- in part because who wouldn’t want unbridled permission to say what’s on your mind without fear of the consequences? Very liberating.

But there’s more to truth-telling than that. Hearing the truth means we know what the situation is, which doors are open to us and which are closed. When we speak the truth others know where we stand. I think that’s something we all crave. It’s the flip side of truth-telling that scares us. If we speak the truth freely, will we hurt someone else’s feelings? Will they hurt ours? Will hearing a particular truth force us to make a decision we don’t really want to make? Will speaking a particular truth mean changing our lives in a way we’re not yet ready for? It gets very complicated.

There’s been a lot said about truth-telling:  “The truth hurts,” “You can’t handle the truth,” “The truth will set you free.” As immediately gratifying as it might have been to have my “Speak the Truth Day”, I don’t think the gratification would have lasted for more than a moment -- because for me the answer to de-complicating truth-telling is in the statement, “Above all else, to thine own self be true.”

There’s no glory in hurting someone’s feelings by being “snarky”. But there is glory, and growth, in staying true to your convictions and principles -- and expressing them consistently through what you say and do. When you speak the truth, in a thoughtful way, you affirm who you are and you make a comfortable place for those around you to speak the truth too. That’s a “speak the truth day” I think we can all live with.

The Motherless Daughter

Thirty-two years ago today my mother died. She was 57 years old, and I was 29.

They say time heals all wounds, but sadly I know this axiom isn’t true. Sometimes the pain of this loss is dull and distant, at other times it is sharp and immediate. Over the years there have been many occasions when I was able to talk about her with great objectivity and little emotion. There have also been many times when I’ve found myself suddenly and unexpectedly overcome with grief, regret, guilt, longing and sorrow.

Today I felt her presence very strongly and missed her very deeply. I am actually glad for that. It would be sadder still to no longer feel a connection, a deep love, a longing for my mother. My father passed away almost two years before my mother, and though I was a daddy’s girl and loved my father very much, it is simply not the same. Children seem to continue to love even the worst of mothers -- I believe it’s a biological imperative -- and mine was among the best. No matter how old we get, we still need our mommies.

This morning, in yet another affirmation of the serendipity of life, the kismet that threads through our days, the coincidence that is really thinly veiled guidance along our right path -- as I was searching for an address book so I could call my aunt, my mother’s oldest sister, I instead came upon an accordion file of my mother’s many writings -- which I had organized and categorized a few years ago. Among her many talents, my mother was a gifted writer -- yet she never shared her written voice beyond putting typewriter or pen to paper. Perhaps she would have done this later in her life, when the internet made sharing your words as simple as putting fingertips to a keyboard. But she ran out of time.

I have time. So I will make sure my mother’s voice is heard for any who want to hear it, but most importantly for those of us who loved her -- and whom she loved.  It will be my ode, of sorts, to my mother.

I love you, Mom.