Why I’m Not Interested in Being Right
I don’t know if it’s a matter of winning or losing thousands of arguments throughout my life, but I’ve put my shield down and thrown the swords away for good. Arguing with someone is such a terrible waste of energy that only leads to feeling miserable. You see, if you “win” an argument, you haven’t let go of your own criticism or judgment. Because you haven’t let go of the experience, your ego wants to feel “better” than the person you are arguing against, and so it creates division and discontent. Your heart cannot be at peace in such a predicament. Arguing never brings the kind of win that feels good. Sure, you can prove yourself in the right in an intellectual battle, but your heart weeps in loneliness. If only you listen to it. The thing is that often we ignore our emotions, thinking that our brains are more important. That’s an epic fail.
The feel-good high of winning an argument gives you a false sense of achievement, which immediately vanishes. I don’t mean a real debate where two or more sides shed light on their premises, allowing the others to hear their POV, digest it and respond; in other words, adult conversation) That’s because it’s not a pure win. Actual wins allow you to feel desirous and hopeful. Real gains have nothing to do with hurting others or righteous behavior at the expense of another.
I used to liken myself to Freya, the Norse Goddess of Icelandic lore. She represented love and war. While my romanticized version of a love warrior was in my head romantic, in life, I acted the part of a woman who loved her men by helping them fix their inadequacies so they could achieve their greatness. They didn’t want to fix it. Wow, what a biased and traditional outmoded non-feminist role I was suckered into. I got it confused. I acted like a martyr, not a loving partner! I’ve come to realize that the battlefield of my heart was a war I was fighting within myself alone. It really had nothing to do with anyone else. The female love warrior badge I wore for a good part of my life was the ideal I was seeking to become. It wasn’t what I was acting out in my previous relationships.
It was easy to blame my partner(s) or family of origin on all the mess-ups and tragedies that befell me. Arguing was so natural and “normalized” to me. I was born into a family of screaming Mimis. Parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, siblings… everyone ranted and raged all over the place. I did too. Apparently, it was standard practice by society’s standards to argue negatively. Just listen to the expression, “you always hurt the ones you love.”
In less than a decade, my brother, mother, first cousin, and first uncle died. I divorced. There was just my son and me. I swore to myself that I’d be the mother I never had and the woman I yearned to become so long ago. I became Freya. I embody the spirit of her and no longer have any need to be right. I stand within myself, knowing the only battles I need to master are those internal. If someone is insistent, I don’t push against them. I’m not in competition with anyone. Not even with myself. I’m in cooperation with myself.
