“In 48 hours you’ll agree with me” was kind of a running
joke with my best friend. We were stuck
on a routine: he would make a statement, I would deny it with all the vehemence
I could muster and 48 hours later I would turn around and tell him that he was
right and I was wrong.
The time delay was largely due to me having to admit stuff
to myself that I was denying. It took
that long for me to get out of my emotional brain, to be able to look at the
issue dispassionately and then concede that the guy had a point. In fact, one of the issues we processed in
this very manner was the fact that it always took me 48 hours to admit that I
was wrong… After we got through that,
things got easier.
That was the most helpful thing anyone ever taught me: to
admit that I was wrong.
It generally wasn’t a factual mistake that was the issue,
but the way I was interpreting a situation.
I needed to admit that I was half-lying to myself, which was hard. What made it possible was the fact that I
genuinely trusted the guy’s motives. He
wasn’t trying to catch me out or to make me feel stupid or bad in any way. He was trying to help me grow. That, to me, was beautiful and precious. It also meant that he cared enough about me
to tell me stuff he knew I wouldn’t like to hear. I am not very nice to be around when I am
feeling challenged; I grow shrill and petulant.
But he cared enough to be willing to face that, and he trusted me enough
that he knew whatever he threw at me would not jeopardise our friendship. The conversations we had were sometimes
deeply uncomfortable, but they were always helpful.
I lost him in the wars, but what he taught me has stuck with
me, and it is a real gift. If someone
throws me a statement that causes me to have a knee-jerk reaction, I make
myself pause and examine what is going on in my head. Am I rejecting an uncomfortable truth? Am I falling back into an emotional pattern
that was implanted on me when I was a child, and would be helpful to outgrow? You admit that sort of thing often enough and
it gets easier. It’s never entirely
comfortable, particularly when the issue is one that cuts deeply, but it does
get easier. The beauty of it is that the
moment you admit that yes, you were wrong, you can actually move on. You can start fixing things.
The flip side is, unusually, also great. Sometimes people do just throw unjust
accusations. Being able to examine them
impartially and discard them as untruths gives me a better chance to respond
like a grown-up. Regardless of the
strength of your argument it’s almost impossible to convince someone when you
are behaving like a peevish child. If a
reasonable argument doesn’t convince my challenger that the statement was
incorrect, I genuinely don’t much care.
Hey, I’ve done my best. I know
what my truth is. If they choose to hold
on to their lies, that is their problem.
When you can admit you’ve been wrong, life gets much
simpler. It’s a lot easier to fight a
single, unpleasant truth that the scores of half-lies than it often takes to
hide it. It’s also a lot harder for
people to hurt you. They can’t hurt you
with truths, and they can’t hurt you with lies.
They also can’t use your past against you anymore.
I’ve taken a hell of a lot of wrong turns. Some I’ve taken because I wanted something
bad enough to be willing to take significant risks. Some I’ve taken because I just didn’t care
what happened at the time. Some, though,
I’ve taken because I was exceptionally stupid.
Either I did not assess a situation accurately or I didn’t react
appropriately. I just messed up. And, you know, that’s ok. I was a twerp and I messed up. You can throw my mistakes at me as hard as
you wish but you’re not going to hit me, because I have accepted them and moved
on. I have also learnt from them, so I’m
hoping I shan’t be making them again.
They are not a problem to me anymore.
It feels as if a humongous weight has been taken off my
shoulders. I don’t have to be right all
the time, and it’s ok. I can make
mistakes, and that’s ok too. Knowing my
weak spots makes me better able to watch out for them, so that hopefully they
won’t affect me so much. I can also work
towards strengthening them. Hell, it’s
so much easier to make things better.
I spent so much of my life defending my ego. As it turns out, it seems that what I was
really doing was hurting myself and holding myself back. I was holding on to unpleasant issues instead
of resolving them. I was also handing
people weapons with which they could hurt me.
I wasted so much time and effort defending a construct that was
contributing nothing towards my happiness and well-being. I was so scared that if I gave up on that
construct, if I admitted fallibility and culpability and weaknesses, everything
would fall apart. If I can’t see my
faults nobody else will be able to see them either, right? Let’s just sweep the whole lot under the
carpet and pretend there’s nothing wrong.
That didn’t work. As it turns
out, that was a big mistake. I messed up
big time on that one, and, you know? I’m
cool with that too.
“It is the highest form of
self-respect to admit our errors and mistakes and make amends for them. To make
a mistake is only an error in judgment, but to adhere to it when it is
discovered shows infirmity of character.”
Dale Turner
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