Why It’s Wrong to Hate Being Wrong

Every once in a while I find myself with nothing to read – to be clear, this RARELY happens as more often than not I’m in the opposite position of having everything to read and not enough time. But about a week ago I found myself with some free time and no books in front of me.

Rather than hop on the Amazon Kindle store and scratch another title off my  long list of “to-reads,” I went to my bookshelf to see if there was anything sitting there I had forgotten about. Unlike my boyfriend’s bookshelf, which is full of unread titles, I’m pretty good about not giving a book a home until it’s well-read. But every once in a while, I shelve one away, most likely never to be picked up again (until we move next).

Sure enough, I found an old – and I mean yellow pages old – book sitting around by Dale Carnegie. Aptly titled, “How To Stop Worrying And Start Living” I decided I would read it. Not only was I curious as to what Dale’s suggestions would be considering I write a blog on stress management, I also planned on doing a mental compare between “How To” advice on stress management in 2013 vs. the advice someone gave in 1943.

The read has been FASCINATING! The prose is outdated, but the advice is absolutely timeless.

When I’m finished, I plan on reviewing the advice in a blog post, but until then, I had to laugh as I sat on the airplane yesterday and read through some of his rules. This one in particular felt all too relevant:

“Let’s never waste a minute thinking about people we don’t like.”

When I Was Wrong

So back to me being wrong. I flew home to Ohio yesterday with my 10-lb dog Mandy (you may have seen her in some of my videos). Mandy is small enough that she can fit under the airplane seat – although it’s a big expense, it’s worth it to bring her home when I’m going to be gone for six weeks!

I made my reservation to take Mandy on the plane right after I booked my own tickets and when I arrived at the airport in Arizona, checked her in along with myself. But on my second flight, about halfway through, the flight attendant noticed for the first time that I had a dog and asked me if I had notified the gate agent that I was bringing a dog on the plane. I was a little confused because I had made a reservation and assumed if I checked my dog in for the flight, I wouldn’t have to check her in for the second half of it – I don’t have to check in again at my connecting gate. The flight attendant was quite flustered because she was not aware I was flying with a dog and she needed this information prior to the flight taking off for allergies and some other purpose that she mumbled. At this point, we were thousands of miles off the ground, so there’s not much she could do about it anyway. But it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. And this really annoyed me.

It annoyed me for several reasons:

1. Technology today should be able to alert a crew when a dog is reserved on their plane
2. The instructions for flying with your dog are so unclear and vary from airline to airline, so it’s hard to even educate yourself on what the right thing is to do
3. I was “scolded” and I HATE being told I’m in the wrong
4. The woman’s tone indicated that she was really annoyed and this meant that I was treated poorly for the rest of the flight because all the flight attendants decided I was a rule-breaker (yes, that is my own projection, by the way)

Why It’s Wrong to Hate Being Wrong

I caught myself here. I recognized how worked up I got about being called out and started questioning why it is that I hate to be “wrong” so much. It’s very much human for many of us to feel uncomfortable when we’re “wrong” but I’m definitely on the extreme side of the line when it comes to reacting to being “wrong.”

I try to place the blame on others. The airlines didn’t clearly state I needed to alert the gate agent at my connecting flight. The airline should have a better technology system.

I complain about it to others to rally them on my side. The first thing I had to say to my parents and my boyfriend when they asked me how my flight was, was the dog story. And it wasn’t just that I was called out – I was “yelled” at.

My discomfort with being wrong is so strong, I could feel my heartbeat increase. I started sweating. I became anxious.

All over something silly. So I was wrong. It wasn’t like there were any consequences. The people around me maybe thought I was a rule-breaker when they heard me getting scolded by the flight attendant, but I can’t know this for sure and none of them acted any differently toward me. Plus, they’re STRANGERS. It was as if this wrongness assaulted my own beliefs about who I am. Can you say perfectionist complex?

Here I was, reading a book about how to stop worrying written in 1943 and I couldn’t calm down from being called out and publicly told that I was WRONG.

The Meaning of Let It Go

The thing of it is I still don’t think I was wrong. I maintain I was right. I did everything I knew I was supposed to do. Nobody told me I had to check my dog in with the gate agent at the connecting flight. The gate agent SAW my dog in the boarding area and didn’t say anything to me. I paid the airlines $125 to have my dog underneath the seat. And yet, I was still called out.

In fact, this whole situation riled me up enough to justify a blog post AND a title that ensures you from the get go I WAS RIGHT.

And that’s the problem.

I hate being wrong. I can’t just sit there and accept that I was wrong. I have to be right.

That’s unhealthy.

The Time We Waste Being Wrong

If I were to live be Carnegie’s laws, I have wasted approximately 24 hours worrying about one person who I don’t like because they told me I was wrong. Not only is it wrong of me to judge this person because they were trying to do their job, but also, it’s not a big deal. No one cares if I brought my dog on the plane and didn’t tell the gate agent. It doesn’t change me as a person. I still follow the rules. And even if I didn’t, it would probably be good for me.

Sometimes, the price you pay for being right is far greater than the truth of accepting you are wrong. Your health is far more valuable than what a group of strangers on an airplane may or may not think about you.

I hope this analysis of my inner workings has helped you recognize unhealthy patterns in yourself that may need examining.

Now I’m going to stop worrying about all this. Or at least try my best.

Image credit: Jack Zalium