Being Right Is The Problem

Updated: Apr 22
Not the solution

I wish this was something I didn’t have to learn the hard way.
Early in our relationship, so many of our upsets felt like monumental problems.
They weren’t.
I couldn’t tell you what a single one was about.
But I can tell you this:
We spent far more energy trying to be right with each other than actually staying connected.
And I would be willing to bet you’re doing the same.
The issue is not what you think it is.
It’s not poor communication.
It’s not incompatibility.
It’s not even your past.
It’s your attachment to being right.
And it has a tighter grip on you than you realize.
You think the problem is that your partner doesn’t understand you.
But watch closely what happens when they try.
They reflect your feelings…
They attempt to validate you…
They reach for you in imperfect but real ways...
And you still say:
“No, that’s not it.”
“You’re not getting it.”
“That’s not what I’m saying.”
Not because they’re completely missing the mark…
But because they didn’t say it exactly how you wanted to hear it.
→ So you correct them.
→ You tighten the standard.
→ You move the target.
They can’t reach you.
And now they probably feel like they are failing, and getting discouraged or frustrated.
This is the quieter form of being right.
The more socially acceptable one.
The one that hides behind words like:
“I just want to feel understood.”
“I don’t feel safe.”
“I don’t feel seen.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
But what you’re actually doing is this:
→ You’re demanding precision over connection.
→ You’re asking your partner to mirror your internal world perfectly—otherwise it doesn’t count.
The louder version looks different, but it’s the same pattern.
Defending.
Explaining.
Correcting every detail.
Criticizing their choice of words.
And it sounds like this:
“That’s not what happened.”
“You’re twisting it.”
“You’re being unfair.”
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
This is the version you recognize more easily.
But it comes from the same place:
You care more about protecting how you’re seen…than taking responsibility for your impact.
So you defend your intention—and abandon your partner’s experience.
Both versions are the same.
Whether you’re correcting their experience or rejecting their attempt to understand yours—
You are choosing control over connection.
And over time, that becomes addictive.
Because being right gives you a hit.
A brief sense of control. A momentary feeling of superiority.The illusion that you’re above the situation…or even better than your partner.
But it doesn’t actually feel good.
It’s a low, restless kind of relief—one that fades quickly and leaves disconnection behind.
It is a pattern that is quietly eroding your relationship.
Here’s the part most people will resist:
→ You are not as open as you think you are.
If your partner has to get it exactly right for you to soften—you’re not open.
If you need to be agreed with before you can listen—you’re not open.
If you’re constantly refining, correcting, or pushing back—you’re not trying to connect.
You’re trying to win… in a more sophisticated way.
And when someone wins, the relationship loses.
I hope you can see how this is costing you intimacy.
Because real connection is not built on precision.
It’s built on generosity.
On allowing imperfect attempts to count.
On letting your partner be human while they reach for you.
On receiving what is being offered… even when it’s not packaged perfectly.
On letting the love through.
Let’s be clear about something:
This is not about becoming a doormat.
This is not about abandoning your perspective.
Or pretending you agree when you don’t.
This is about something far more mature:
Allowing two realities to exist at the same time.
Because the truth is—
Your partner can experience something differently than you…and still be valid.
They can feel hurt…even if you didn’t intend to hurt them.
They can see it one way…while you see it another.
And neither of you has to collapse for connection to happen.
Mature love sounds like this:
“That’s not exactly it… but I can feel that you’re trying to understand me.”
“I see what you’re saying… I hadn’t thought about it that way.”
“I may remember it differently… but I care about how it felt for you.”
"I care about how that landed for you."
But if you need agreement in order to stay open—you will keep choosing being right over being close.
Every time.
Because you are not being guided by your point of view—you’re imprisoned by it.
Here’s the Deeply Simple shift:
Instead of asking,
“How do I get them to see it my way?”
Ask:
“Can I stay connected… even when we see it differently?”
“Can I soften just 2% more and loosen the grip?”
That’s it.
Plain and simple.
Choosing connection looks like this:
→ Loosening your grip… even when you feel certain, even when you believe you’re right.
→ Letting their words be imperfect… and still receiving the effort.
→ Resisting the urge to correct… just long enough to understand.
Saying:
“I see you.”
“I may not agree, but I care about your experience.”
“We don’t have to see things the same way to stay connected.”
"We are on the same team. Let's figure this out together."
This is what creates depth.
Not sameness. Not agreement.
But the capacity to hold difference—without turning it into distance.
Because being right will never give you what you actually want.
Connection will.
But connection requires something your ego resists:
Humility
Flexibility
Vulnerability
And the willingness to release your grip… even when it feels justified.
Less right.
More connected.
That’s the shift.
