The Beauty of Being Wrong

A few years ago, I walked into a strategy session with a leadership team convinced I had the perfect solution to their challenge. I had done the prep work, analyzed the data, and mapped the outcomes. My confidence was unshakable. Within twenty minutes, I realized I had it completely wrong.

The “obvious” problem I was there to solve wasn’t their real problem at all. The real issue — the one no one had named — was that the leaders didn’t trust each other enough to have honest conversations. My brilliant strategic framework? Useless until we addressed that big elephant in the room.

I remember feeling that hot rush of embarrassment, the quiet voice whispering, You should have seen this coming. But at that moment, something shifted. I stopped defending the plan I’d brought and started getting curious. I asked different questions. I listened more than I spoke.

By the end of the day, we hadn’t touched the original agenda — and yet we’d accomplished something far more powerful. That team left with a new understanding of one another, a commitment to rebuild trust, and a shared sense of purpose. The following quarter, they exceeded every target they’d set.

Here’s what I learned that day: being wrong isn’t a setback when you allow it to redirect you toward what’s true.

We’ve been wired for millennia to see “wrong” as dangerous — a threat to our survival. But in today’s world, it’s the unwillingness to be wrong that quietly erodes our impact. It keeps us overthinking instead of acting, defending instead of adapting.

The leaders who create real change are the ones who experiment, pay attention, and adapt quickly. They don’t fear missteps because they know every misstep holds valuable data, a new perspective, and an opportunity to grow.

Being wrong, when approached with intention, is not a detour from your path — it is the path. It’s how you discover the things no map could have shown you. It’s how you develop the kind of confidence that comes not from avoiding mistakes, but from knowing you can navigate through them.

This doesn’t mean jumping without looking. It means placing thoughtful bets, learning in tiny experiments, and surrounding yourself with people who will help you see what you can’t see alone.

So, if you’re holding back because you’re afraid to misstep, consider this: that “wrong” move you are avoiding might be the exact moment that changes everything because the beauty of being wrong is that it often leads you exactly where you’re meant to go.