There are three words harder to say than “I love you.”

I WAS WRONG.

Not:

I’m sorry you felt that way.

Not:

That wasn’t my intention.

Not:

Well, you did some shit too.

Just—

I was wrong.

That sentence has buried more egos than any insult ever could.

Because eventually you live long enough to discover something uncomfortable:

You weren’t right every time.

You misjudged people.

You trusted some who didn’t deserve it.

Distrusted some who did.

You stayed too long.

Left too early.

Said things you wish you could pull back out of the air.

And sometimes the hill you were prepared to die on?

Turns out it was just a fucking hill.

Growing older is supposed to give us wisdom.

But wisdom isn’t collecting enough experience that nobody can correct you anymore.

It’s having enough experience to recognize when correction is deserved.

Faith requires some of that too.

Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself.

It’s understanding that truth doesn’t become false just because it embarrasses you.

So change your mind when the evidence changes.

Apologize when you hurt somebody.

Correct what you can.

Forgive yourself for what you genuinely didn’t know then.

And when you discover you were wrong—

don’t waste another decade protecting the version of you who made the mistake.

Let him learn.

Then let him go.

Being wrong doesn’t make you weak.

Refusing to learn from it might.

SAINT DIRTY FACE™
Imperfect on Purpose. Faithful with Fangs.