The Gift of Being Wrong

Being wrong is a gift. 

For those of us who have been dieting for years and decades, this might sound ludicrous. 

How can it be a gift that I don’t seem to be able to figure out how to lose weight and keep it off?

Here is the gift:

We’re convinced we’re right in our quest to lose weight: Stick to the diet, lose the weight, keep it off.

And we keep trying the same things over and over again because at one point, those things worked… sort of. We lost weight, for sure. But then we regained it. We lost it again… and regained it again, and then some. Rinse and repeat. 

We’re convinced we’re right:

~there’s something wrong with us,

~the answers we seek are outside of us,

~the answer is a diet.

But think about this:

If that diet had really been the answer, then you wouldn’t be where you are right now.  You’d be maintaining that weight loss. 

The idea that this diet or that technique, this plan or that strategy is the right answer keeps you stuck. 

Thinking that you should weigh what you used to weigh or wear clothes you used to wear keeps you stuck. 

But what if you’re wrong?

What if what you’ve thought you were supposed to do isn’t what you’re supposed to do?

What if you’re supposed to do something else? Believe something else?

The gift of being wrong is that you are free to look for new answers and new solutions. 

“I don’t know,” is a gift. 

“I’m lost,” is a gift. 

They’re gifts because they open you up to new possibilities – new ways of believing, thinking, feeling, and doing. 

You’re free from having to already know what to do.

You have a beginner’s mind – to be curious and open to what arises.

You become willing to try something and see if it works, without attaching your self-worth to the outcome.

Let me give you an example from my own life:

~In 2010 – 2011, I thought I had finally found the solution to my incessant weight gain-loss-regain cycle. I gave up sugar and flour (not for the first time) and hired a trainer. I worked out six days a week. 

~I lost a lot of weight and became fitter than I’d been in a very long time. 

~Eureka! I thought I had my forever solution. 

~But I didn’t. I was wrong. 

~I regained all of the weight plus some. 

~For years I couldn’t forgive myself for working so hard only to regain the weight. I simply couldn’t forgive myself for being human. 

~For years I tried to replicate what I’d done in 2010 – 2011. I knew that this was the solution.
~But I just couldn’t do it. So I hated myself even more, and I withheld forgiveness from myself. 

I was stuck because I thought I was right about everything:

~about what would work for me

~about how I was to blame for regaining the weight

For years thereafter, I tried to replicate my 2010-2011 success. 

I wore myself down and out. I was exhausted. 

Then one day, I had to admit that I just didn’t know what to do. I. Didn’t. Know.

I didn’t know what was going to work for me. Maybe nothing. 

When I let go of knowing and being right, something miraculous happened. 

I became willing to try different things without attaching anything to the outcome. 

I got to decide what I wanted to do.

I was in a state of wonder and experimentation. 

I would try something for the good of my body and my emotions that was aligned with how I wanted to live. 

If something worked, great. I’d keep it. 

If something didn’t work, that was ok. I’d either let it go completely or modify it.

That was how a beginner’s mind worked for me. 

~I had no agenda. 

~I had no rigid timeline. 

~I let go of stringent ideas about what I thought I should be doing and where I thought I was supposed to be. 

I did it without judgment.
I consciously worked to not condemn myself for mistakes. I was learning. 

None of this happened perfectly. To this day, I’m still experimenting.
Things work. Things don’t work. 

Things work for a period of time, and then they don’t. That’s ok. 

By the way, this way of thinking was the missing piece back in 2010 – 2011. I thought I’d figured it out, but really, I’d only put practices in place without working on my mindset and being flexible.

Letting go of being right and embracing not knowing moved me from a scarcity mindset of absolutes and shoulds to feeling better and having more clarity of thought.

Here’s a brief example to highlight what I mean:

~Many times, I thought that I had to give up sugar and flour forever. 

~I could adhere to this plan for a while.

~However, after a time, I would begin to think it wasn’t fair that I couldn’t have any sugar or flour at all. 

~Then there would come a day when I’d say that I deserved some sugar and flour and eat in defiance. 

~One episode would lead to another, and another, and another. Before long, I would have completely abandoned the no sugar, no flour plan. 

Today, instead, I say that I have better sleep, more energy, a better mood and in general, I am happier when I don’t include sugar and flour in my food protocol. I have both of these things sometimes as joy foods or on special occasions. 

I offer to you the gifts of:

~being wrong

~not knowing

~needing and asking for help

~needing guidance

~needing education

By being wrong, I learned more about myself, what works for me and what doesn’t. 

By saying I don’t know, without judging myself, I opened myself up to learning. 

Being wrong is freedom. It is the freedom to begin anew, to explore a world of options and possibilities. 

Being wrong and not knowing, I opened myself up to willingness, decision-making, experimentation and imperfection, ownership over my choices, and freedom from feeling trapped and hopeless. 

I offer the same to you.