Down To Be Wrong. Don’t Need To Be Right.
In relationships—with our children, partners, parents, friends, and colleagues—we often want to feel understood. But sometimes our desire to be understood quietly becomes a need for the other person to agree with us.
We explain why we're upset. We clarify what we meant. We point out what the other person did wrong. We provide more evidence. We try to get them to see the situation the way we see it.
And when they don't?
We explain more.
Before long, the conversation is no longer about understanding one another. It becomes a debate about whose perspective is right.
This happens frequently in parenting.
Parents can get caught trying to convince their child that a limit is reasonable, fair, or necessary. We explain the bedtime rule, justify why they can't have something, or lecture about why their behavior isn't acceptable—often hoping that if our child understands our reasoning, they will agree and cooperate.
But children don't have to agree with us for us to hold a boundary.
A toddler can be furious that you won't give them another cookie while you calmly say, “I know you really want another one. The answer is no.”
A school-aged child can think your decision is unfair while you acknowledge, “You don't think this is fair. I understand why you're upset. I'm still saying no.”
And a teenager can genuinely believe that you are being unreasonable without you needing to prove that you're not.
As children grow, their ability to argue, reason, and challenge our perspectives grows, too. The developmental task for parents shifts from convincing our child that we're right toward helping them learn that two people can experience the same situation differently.
And remain connected.
Even with a baby, parents can become caught in the struggle between what they think should be happening and what their child is actually communicating.
Is it time for a nap? Should the baby be sleeping longer? Why isn't the schedule working?
But the work of parenting is less about getting the child to conform to our expectations and more about learning to observe, adapt, and respond to the child in front of us.
As children develop, this becomes more obvious.
The toddler wants the blue cup. The preschooler insists they didn't hit their sibling. The school-aged child argues that something isn't fair. The middle schooler questions every rule. The teenager challenges our judgment.
At every stage, there is an opportunity to get pulled into the same cycle:
I need you to understand why I'm right → you don't agree → I explain more → you push back → I become more frustrated → now we're fighting about the argument rather than the original issue.
The content changes as children grow. The relational pattern doesn't.
I often see the same thing happen between adults, and especially in the coparenting relationship.
“You never help me.”
“I do help. I did the dishes last night.”
“That doesn't count. I have to ask you to do everything.”
“That's not true. You never notice what I do.”
Now both people are gathering evidence. Trying to prove their case.
But underneath the argument may be something much simpler:
“I'm overwhelmed, and I don't feel supported.”
“You were really dismissive of me.”
“I wasn't being dismissive. I was tired.”
“I know what you were doing.”
“No, you don't. That's not what I meant.”
Now there's arguing about intentions rather than an authentic conversation about impact.
But intention and impact can coexist. Your partner may not have intended to dismiss you, and you may still have experienced their behavior as dismissive.
We don't always need to determine whose interpretation is objectively correct before we can respond to what is happening in the relationship.
In both cases, these couples are now stuck in a cycle of defenses. Arguing about who is to blame, or not to blame. Missing the feelings and needs underneath. And with it, the opportunity to offer compassion, consideration, and connection.
No repair or compromise can happen in this battle to be right.
But here’s the thing:
Understanding is not the same as agreeing.
This may be one of the hardest things to tolerate in close relationships:
Someone can understand you without agreeing with you.
Your child can understand why you set a limit and still be angry about it.
Your partner can understand why something hurt you without agreeing with your interpretation of what happened.
Your parents can understand why you made a different choice for your own family without agreeing with it.
Understanding does not require consensus.
And connection does not require everyone to see things the same way.
In fact, relationships often become more connected when we can tolerate differences without experiencing it as rejection.
But the minute that being right becomes more important than listening and understanding, we’ve lost the point. And blocked the outcome we’re seeking.
So what do we do instead?
There are a handful of skills that can really support a different outcome:
Awareness of our feelings and needs
Acknowledgment of our own defenses
Emotional regulation skills
Understanding interpersonal boundaries
Listening without judgement or reaction
The next time you notice yourself explaining, defending, or arguing your position, pause and ask:
Am I trying to help this person understand me—or am I trying to get them to agree with me?
If it is the latter, consider stepping out of the debate.
With your child, you might say:
“I know you don't like this limit. You don't have to agree with me.”
With your partner:
“You may see this differently than I do. I want you to understand how it felt for me, even if you don't see it the same way.”
And sometimes the most connected response is simply:
“I understand that you see it differently. And it’s important to me that you feel I value your perspective”
Being understood matters. Being able to understand someone else matters even more.
But being right is not the same thing as being connected. When we can let go of the need to prove ourselves, we create more room for curiosity, collaboration, acceptance, and genuine connection.
Until Next Time,
Allie