My life has been a lot less stressful since I found the humility to admit that I’m often a fool.
There was a time when I was afraid of what other people might think. I wouldn’t have put it that way, but if you look at the way I acted, it’s pretty clear. What if people didn’t recognize how smart I am? What if people saw me change my mind about something and realized that I’d been wrong before?
I wanted people to believe I was completely consistent. If I had once said something, I felt obligated to defend it, because admitting I’d been wrong might imply I could still be wrong about other things.
So I pretended I had things figured out, even when I felt foolish inside.

My need to make others perfect reflects my fear I’m not in control
How did my memory get it wrong? Why did I edit the truth about her?
Voting Rights Act oversight rules should reflect today, not the past
How does a father overcome his own issues to raise a new baby?
We forget how to be happy, but children and animals remember
Be afraid, friends: Chicken Little says the sky is falling somewhere
Loss of cultural consensus means violent conflict in decades ahead