The Burden Of Always Being Right

Let’s cut through the noise. You think being right is a strength? I’ve seen soldiers freeze in a firefight because they had to be right—every decision, every second. That’s not strength. That’s a burden.

Here’s what people misunderstand: They think it’s about ego. “She’s just arrogant.” Or “He’s insecure.” No. It’s trauma. When you’ve faced chaos where being wrong meant death, your brain wires itself to never be wrong again. It’s not pride—it’s survival.

Here’s the reality: That “always right” stance is a cage. It stops you from asking for help. It makes you shut down when someone says, “I’ve got your back.” It isolates you. I’ve sat with first responders who couldn’t admit they were overwhelmed because being right meant they couldn’t be vulnerable. And that’s how they break.

Why it matters: You can’t heal in a cage. When you’re too busy proving you’re right, you miss the people who want to help you carry the weight. You miss the moment someone says, “I see you. Let me hold this.” That’s not weakness—it’s the only way to survive what we’ve seen.

Here’s what works: Start small. Today, say it out loud: “I might be wrong about this.” Not to prove a point. Just to feel the air in your lungs. Then, ask one person for their perspective. “What do you think?” Watch what happens. You won’t fall apart. You’ll realize you’re not alone.

I’ve seen the worst—bodies on the ground, silence where voices should be. And I’ve seen people survive it. Not by being right. By letting someone else hold the light when they couldn’t.

You don’t have to carry it all. Let someone else be right for a minute.

— Lois Brown, still serving