In some arguments, one sentence keeps returning as definitive proof:
“You thought that last time too. You saw that I was right.”
At first, we may be recalling an accurate fact. We had better anticipated a consequence. Events had proved us right.
But the memory can change its function.
It no longer helps inform the present decision. It becomes a deed of ownership: from now on, we would be the person who understands, while the other would be the one who gets things wrong.
A particular truth becomes a permanent identity.
Our partner no longer has to defend only their idea. They have to defend it against the story we have written about them.
A past victory does not make us right in advance
Having been right before gives us experience, not a verdict on every future discussion.
Yet we may enter a conversation listening only to spot the mistake. If the other person hesitates, we see it as a lack of command of the subject. If they speak with emotion, we declare their reasoning weak. If they become angry after feeling belittled, their reaction confirms our view of them.
The mechanism feeds itself.
Perhaps their idea was bad. Perhaps the way we listened also prevented them from presenting it clearly. Both can be true.
A person can be wrong about the substance and accurately perceive the contempt with which we answer them.
Seeing no flaws is already a piece of information
One day, I ask a friend to name two or three of her flaws. She replies that she sees none.
I tell her: “So that means you are perfect.”
She protests: “Nobody is perfect.”
We know how to recite that nobody is perfect. Identifying our own imperfection takes more. We have to accept that a specific difficulty bears our name and that the other person may see something we miss.
A person unable to name an area they need to work on does not prove that they are exceptional. They may be showing that they rarely examine themselves or reserve all their attention for their partner’s mistakes.
I have been in that position myself. I could explain what was wrong with the other person far more precisely than what needed to change in me.
Imagined superiority sometimes begins with this genuine inability to see ourselves as part of the problem.
We compare our strength with their flaw
To believe ourselves superior, we need only choose which things to compare.
We set our patience against their anger, our money against their difficulties, our ease with words against their hesitation, or our faithfulness against their wrongdoing.
We do not compare our harshness with their ability to forgive, our need for control with their flexibility, or our coldness with their warmth.
We compare the best of ourselves with the worst of the other person, then call the result an objective assessment.
Our partner ceases to be a whole person. They become the backdrop against which our worth appears greater.
Staying with someone while reminding them that our presence is a favor does not produce gratitude. It produces a debt that can never be repaid.
A strength is also worth what it produces
We may be more educated, wealthier or better organized in certain areas. The point is not to deny those differences.
It is to ask what we do with them.
If our intelligence serves only to win, it becomes a weapon of prestige. If our money serves as a reminder of who depends on whom, it becomes a means of domination. If our emotional control serves to provoke calmly and then condemn the reaction, it is not maturity.
A personal strength does not automatically become a strength in a relationship.
Its value for the couple depends on what it produces: understanding, safety, repair or a better ability to decide together.
Being right has no relational value in itself. Let us ask instead: what have we made possible by being right?
If our truth leaves the other person humiliated, the problem intact and the relationship more fragile, we have won the argument without helping the couple move forward.
Being more capable increases our responsibility
Greater skill in an area increases our responsibility to make things understandable. It does not oblige the other person to surrender to our will.
The person who knows more about finances can help with decisions without using figures to silence the other. The one who understands relationships better can shed light without diagnosing the other person in every conflict.
Passing on knowledge is not crushing someone. Advising is not governing.
We may even benefit from the flaw we condemn. The other person’s lack of confidence guarantees us the last word. Their financial mistakes give us control. Their poor way of expressing themselves allows us to avoid answering the substance of what they say.
We demand that they become independent, then challenge their decisions. We want them to speak more, then correct every sentence.
The message becomes: “Improve yourself, but not enough to challenge the position your flaw has given me.”
Our view must be able to update itself
Even when the other person changes, we may continue living with their former version.
The past gives us reasons to be cautious. It must not become a prison with no conditions for release.
Updating our view means neither forgetting nor immediately restoring every form of access. Having been right yesterday does not authorize us to deny what the other person is doing right today.
If we ask for change, we must be able to see it.
Otherwise, the person discovers that no effort will change their identity in our eyes.
Our share is not always half
Acknowledging our part does not split every problem in two.
The person who insults is responsible for the insult. The person who cheats is responsible for the cheating. The person who hits is responsible for the violence. The fact that the other person stayed, was afraid or did not know how to leave does not make them jointly responsible for the act inflicted on them.
Under threats or coercion, the ability to choose can be greatly reduced.
Self-examination seeks only what can make us freer: the signs to recognize, the help to seek, the resources to prepare and the decisions that become possible again as safety increases.
Personal responsibility must restore power. If it absolves the perpetrator of violence or blames the person subjected to it, it has lost its meaning.
Being right must pass the test of usefulness
We will not always be right. Neither will our partner.
A couple does not need a permanent winner. It needs two people able to revise their understanding without losing their dignity.
Instead of asking “Who is more intelligent?”, let us ask: “What can each person’s perspective help us understand?”
Instead of asking “Who won?”, let us ask: “What will be different after this discussion?”
Truth loses nothing when it is conveyed with respect.
It becomes possible to receive it.
What does my being right produce?
- Which past victory still closes off our present discussions?
- Which personal flaw do I find hard to name?
- Which strength of the other person does my comparison leave out?
- What advantage does their weakness allow me to keep?
- Does my being right actually help our relationship move forward?
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