What’s Wrong with Being Right
As my childhood friends will tell you, I was an excellent student in school, quick to learn and even faster to put my hand up in class. My intellect gave me a sturdy confidence in the world, even as life at home was hard. As I advanced in school, my ability to find and know the right answer helped me make sense of the world. It helped me to forge and find my own way, because I wasn't getting that guidance at home.
Being right also meant knowing how to stand up to my father, who trained as a lawyer and worked as a judge. If I could out-reason him — and, by extension, my mother — I could find a small place to assert my will, one place where what I thought and what I wanted felt like it mattered.
But to get there, I had to be right.
Being right became not just a way to be rewarded in school, but a way I could make sense of relationships. I learned to use reason as a tool. Saying, "Look, my way is better," is very close to asking, "Do you see me?"
Being right became being understood. It proved that I mattered. Being right was how I established safety and connection.
Being Right as a Losing Strategy for Connection
Those of us who found solace in logic and achievements, to escape the hardships of our childhood families, tend to lean into it hard. When we use "rightness" as a way to solve problems, we reason our way out of challenges with logic. This naturally creates positive feedback loops of high achievement: good grades, good schools, and good jobs.
It's natural that we grow up believing that our logic and reason (our being "right") will set us up to have the life, love, and legacy we want.
Only it doesn't.
In relationships, and especially marriages, being the “right” one might appear to be a good idea. It keeps us safe from error, superior (to whoever is "wrong"), and gives us a stable and justifiable position.
But being right — as a relational strategy — backfires spectacularly. It's a relational landmine that isolates us in antagonism and grandiosity. Yet because logic is on our side (we're "right," after all), we often don't realize the damage we're doing until it's too late.
Saying “My way is right,” implies “Your way is wrong.” It's implicitly one-upping. If I always know best in any challenge, your perspective is dismissed and diminished.
"I know best" is another way of saying, "You don't know anything." It’s contempt disguised as logic, and it hurts.
When we confront the part of us who needs to be right with the damage done to our relationships, we might feel impatience or incredulity. "But...I'm right," we might argue to ourselves.
And it's not that we're wrong.
It's just that we're choosing being right instead of creating the relational safety and connection we so deeply long for.
"You Can Be Right or You Can be Married."
Nothing spirals faster than an argument between two partners who use being right as a stand-in for empathy and vulnerability.
It's logical.
And it's also lazy.
The part of us who thinks (okay, who knows) they’re right isn’t the part of us with the skills to deepen and sustain an intimate relationship. They are two very different aspects of ourselves, quite at odds.
It's not sexy to constantly tell your partner how wrong they are (which can sound like how "stupid"). No one wants to get intimate with someone who seems to think they're stupid.
Imagine being on the receiving end of the kind of unrelenting “rightness” that some of us inflict on our beloved partners.
It's beyond painful. It's intolerable.
But those of us who use being right, as a strategy to win arguments in our relationships, default to this one-upping all the time. It's an old and outdated habit, one that kept us safe and made us feel confident enough to get through childhood.
But now, in our adult relationships, we need to find another way.
Being right polarizes us into right/wrong or smart/stupid. It pits us against someone who loves us and who wants to be our ally. And it doesn't invite the listening, softening, or co-creation required for thriving partnership.
It's also not very fun to be around.
"But…I'm right," we might repeat to ourselves, insisting even more strongly, "They are…actually wrong."
And to that, I say..."Who cares?"
Serious question: Would you rather be right, or be married?
How to Step Down from the Losing Strategy of Being Right in Relationships
Assuming that you'd rather be in relationships, I have some good news. The part of us who's committed to being right, as a way to win arguments, no longer needs to run the show.
This is an inside job, but it's especially powerful to work this out in partnership — doing the kind of couple’s trauma resolution work I offer.
Here's how to navigate with this part of you, without sending them away and making them wrong (which will only make them more committed to proving they're right, so they can earn back your love).
1. Acknowledge the part of you who has used being right as a strategy to get love, safety, and belonging.
This part of us learned a long time ago that being right created a modicum of safety and connection when those were hard to come by.
When did you start doing this? Who did you learn it from? How far back does this losing strategy go? It must have worked, back then — otherwise you wouldn't still be using it. Instead of exiling this part in frustration, get curious about what they're up to and why.
2. Identify when you get activated into “being right.”
Being right is a strategy you employ during stress and disconnection. When does it happen? How does it come up? What’s happening around you?
Learn how to recognize this part of you when you're in arguments with your partner. There's usually a tone of voice or specific words we use when this part of us steps in to fight for us. A telltale sign is suddenly feeling antagonized by them, or that you're wrong and need to explain yourself, or that they're the enemy.
3. Differentiate yourself from that part of you.
Once you see this part of yourself, step back. Give yourself a bit of breathing room from the experience and the behavior. Center yourself in your wise adult awareness (your present-moment conscious awareness) and out of your activated subcortical (reactive) system.
What you might see is that the part of you so invested in being "right" is trying hard to protect you from pain. See the strategy of self-protection for what it is — and don't buy into the content.
4. Offer this part of you understanding.
Turn towards the inner experience of “needing to be right” with understanding and care. Offer yourself compassion for the pattern you're stuck in — it’s painful to be trapped in a losing strategy that sabotages your chances for connection.
The distance can give you a clear-eyed view on the consequences of this "being right" behavior on your partner and your relationships. Being “right” might feel good in the moment, but its aftermath destroys the very love, safety, and belonging you really want.
5. Lead yourself in a different direction.
Understanding and listening to the part of you who needs to be right doesn't mean you say or do whatever they want. Instead, respond to this part with empathy and at the same time, give yourself a different direction.
Stop explaining and start listening. Slow down enough to hear what your partner is saying. Calm your nervous system. Step down from the urgent need to explain or defend.
This last step takes some work and is easiest done in couples work, but I hope this gives you enough to go on for now. Every minute you can stay compassionate and aware, and not act from your old strategies, you are creating more closeness and connection for yourself and your partner.
Learning how to do this takes time and effort. Stepping out of the superficial safety of being "right" and into relational space is an act of vulnerability and courage.
And the intimacy and joy that's waiting for you on the other side is well worth the work.
*
I help people with complex trauma have better relationships. If you’re curious about how my work can help to rapidly and effectively shift lifelong trauma symptoms that keep you stuck and suffering, reach out and let’s talk.