When I Changed My Mind

What’s a topic or issue about which you’ve changed your mind?

I want to tell you about a profound shift, a fundamental change of mind that rattled my core. It wasn’t about a theoretical argument or a fleeting opinion; it was about a deeply held position I was convinced was the single, unassailable truth. What blindsided me, what truly surprised me, was not the error of my stance, but how heavy certainty had felt all along, and how utterly light the truth became the moment I stopped clinging to being right. Letting go wasn’t a casual recalibration; it was a grueling disassembly of ego. It demanded a vulnerability that sits like grit in the gears of pride. I had to confront not just the situation, but the very fortress of my own assumptions, my ingrained emotions, and the perfectly edited, one-sided story I had been clutching like a life raft. There were moments of internal friction, a raw resistance to conceding, followed by the deep silence. The kind of silence that demands you stop arguing with the echoes in your own head.

In that silence, a new kind of signal broke through: understanding. I began to see the people involved not as convenient supporting characters in my narrative, but as complex individuals carrying their own truths, fears, and wounds. My heart didn’t soften in surrender; it matured. It expanded to hold the full, messy complexity of the situation. It’s effortless to hold a grudge—it requires no energy beyond inertia. It is infinitely harder to hold space—for difference, for complexity, for the simple, frightening fact that you might not be the final authority on reality.

Looking back, the change of mind didn’t just alter my view of that specific conflict; it reshaped my entire approach to empathy and growth. It was a stark reminder that wisdom often doesn’t come from delivering the final, definitive statement, but from the quiet humility of listening. Not from standing rigidly firm, but from the courage of stepping back. And while I won’t share the details of the event, I will share the most important lesson it taught me: Sometimes, peace doesn’t arrive with a resolution. It comes from a complete and total release. It comes from setting down the weapon of your certainty and walking away from the battle you were only fighting with yourself.