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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.

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Feelings from the past can often lie waiting for us to find. Sometimes figuratively, sometimes literally. Friday morning, the past showed up at my house in the form of a lilac-colored envelope that a woman had sealed for me 19 years ago.

I knew the handwriting before I even read her name.

I started some renovations in my house last year and I moved boxes around that hadn’t been touched for a very long time. I had planned to go through the boxes, but I never did. Friday morning, an envelope atop one of those boxes caught my eye. I absentmindedly picked it up. It was unopened, but there was a handwritten note on the outside.

“Dear David,” the note started.

It was dated June 12, 2006. Even without seeing the confident signature and the flourishes at the end of the loving note on the outside of the envelope, I knew who it was from. I haven’t talked to her for many years, but she and I once loved each other very much. We almost got married. There had been regret for both of us when things were over — and that regret was never resolved.

What did this unopened old card say on the inside? It made my heart do flip flops as I looked at her handwriting and I wondered what it might say.

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I spent much of my life trying to correct the rest of the world.

I knew the facts. I knew what was rational. I was absolutely certain of myself. I was arrogant enough to believe I knew what other people ought to believe. How they ought to live. What they ought to say. And I would argue with almost anybody, especially online. All of these idiotic beliefs kept me miserable.

I had to learn a humbling lesson. Nobody wanted me to correct him or her. Even if I was right, my arrogant attitude and insistence on “fixing” others made me wrong. It took me years to learn that.

I see plenty of people around me today who still haven’t learned this lesson — and that is often keeping them unhappy, arrogant and bitter, even if they can’t admit it to themselves.

So I’m going to tell you what I’ve learned. You can accept this lesson or you can ignore it. That’s up to you. Ready?

Let people be wrong.

Don’t argue with them. Don’t try to prove you’re right. Don’t try to prove they’re wrong. You have nothing to gain by arguing. Even if the other person is objectively wrong, so what? Are you really making a difference now if you’re going around correcting people? How’s that working out for you?

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