Ego Is a Terrible Life Coach

Those of you who know my story know that ego has wrecked my life at certain points. I even have a tattoo that reads "EGO IS THE ENEMY" on my forearm. I've spent time researching and reading about ego, and the things I've discovered are intriguing. Would you believe me if I told you that we all struggle with ego from time to time? 

So, today I'm writing about ego. Not the obvious kind. I'm not talking about the person who walks into a room convinced they're the smartest person there. That's easy to spot.

I'm talking about the quieter kind. The kind that lives inside most of us. 

• The kind that tells us we need to be right. 
• That we deserve more credit. 
• That someone else's success somehow makes ours smaller. 
• That criticism is disrespect. 
• That being ignored means we're unimportant. 
• That we need to explain ourselves. 
• That people need to know our side of the story. 
• That if we're not in control, something is probably going to go wrong.

And honestly?

Ego is a terrible life coach.

The problem is, most of us keep taking its advice.

Ego Makes Everything About You

Have you ever had someone disagree with you and immediately thought, They don't respect me?

Maybe they just disagreed.

Have you ever gotten criticism and immediately started building a defense in your head?

Well, they don't know the whole story.

Maybe they don't. But maybe there's something you could learn.

Have you ever watched someone else get the opportunity you wanted and thought, I deserved that?

Maybe you did. Or maybe their opportunity has absolutely nothing to do with you.

That's one of ego's favorite tricks.

It takes something that happened and immediately asks:

"What does this mean about me?"

Someone doesn't call.

They don't care about me.

Someone doesn't invite you.

They don't value me.

Someone gets promoted.

They must think they're better than me.

Someone corrects you.

They're attacking me.

Someone doesn't agree with your opinion.

They don't respect me.

Sometimes we're not reacting to what actually happened. We're reacting to the story our ego wrote about what happened.

And ego is a terrible storyteller.

Ego Really Hates Being Wrong

Most of us like to think we're humble enough to admit when we're wrong.

And then somebody actually tells us we're wrong.

Suddenly, we're lawyers.

We have evidence. We have witnesses. We have context. We have a timeline. We have screenshots. We're prepared to present Exhibit A through Z to a jury that nobody asked for.

Why?

Because ego doesn't just want to be right.

Ego wants to be SEEN as right.

There's a difference.

Being wrong privately is uncomfortable. Being wrong publicly is humiliating.

And ego would much rather protect our image than grow our character. Sometimes we would rather win an argument than understand another person. We would rather prove our point than preserve the relationship. We would rather explain ourselves than simply say, "You're right. I handled that poorly."

That's ego.

It would rather be impressive than teachable.

Ego Loves the Steering Wheel

Ego also loves control.

It convinces us that if we can just manage the situation, manage the people, manage the outcome, manage what everyone thinks of us, and manage the narrative, then we'll finally be okay.

Good luck with that.

People are unpredictable. Life is unpredictable. Other people's opinions are unpredictable.

And sometimes people are going to misunderstand you. Sometimes they're going to get the wrong impression. Sometimes they're going to tell a story about you that isn't completely accurate.

And here's the part ego hates:

You won't always get to correct it.

That's a tough pill to swallow. Especially if you've spent years trying to make sure people understand you.

But eventually you realize that you don't have to attend every argument you're invited to. You don't have to correct every misconception. You don't have to explain every decision. You don't have to make everyone understand your intentions.

Sometimes you can simply know who you are and keep moving.

That's maturity.

And ego hates maturity because maturity doesn't need the last word.

Ego Doesn't Always Want Applause

Sometimes ego doesn't want to be admired.

Sometimes it just wants to be needed.

That's a little harder to recognize.

We can convince ourselves we're helping when what we really need is to feel important.

We can get frustrated when someone doesn't take our advice. We can feel rejected when someone solves a problem without us. We can become offended when someone we helped no longer needs our help.

And sometimes we confuse being useful with being valuable.

Those aren't the same thing.

People grow. Kids grow up. Friends build lives of their own. People we once helped eventually learn how to help themselves.

And that's actually the goal.

If you love someone, you shouldn't need them to stay dependent on you so you can feel important.

Sometimes the greatest success is realizing someone doesn't need you anymore.

That's not rejection.

That's fruit.

Ego Keeps Receipts

Ego is also really good at keeping score.

It remembers who apologized first.

Who didn't say thank you.

Who got invited.

Who didn't.

Who helped you.

Who didn't.

Who got credit.

Who didn't give you credit.

Who owes you.

Who disappointed you.

We may never say any of it out loud, but somewhere in the back of our minds, there's a little scoreboard.

And once you start keeping score, relationships become competitions.

Marriage becomes:

I did this, so you should do that.

Friendship becomes:

I called last time. It's their turn.

Work becomes:

Why did they get recognized instead of me?

Even serving people can become transactional if we're secretly waiting for someone to notice.

That's the problem.

Ego doesn't just want to do good.

EGO WANTS CREDIT FOR DOING GOOD.

Sometimes the most freeing thing we can do is something good and let nobody know we did it.

No applause.

No recognition.

No social media post.

Just do the right thing and move on.

Ego hates that.

Which is probably a good sign.

Jesus Wasn't Impressed With Ego

This is where the Christian side of this gets uncomfortable. Because if we're honest, sometimes our ego can sneak into our faith too.

We can want to be the person with the best theology.

The person with the right answer.

The person everyone comes to for advice.

The person who knows the Bible better than everyone else.

We can even turn humility into another thing we're proud of.

Look how humble I am.

That's when you know ego has gotten creative.

Jesus didn't seem very impressed with any of it.

He had every reason to demand recognition.

He was the Son of God, and yet He repeatedly moved toward humility.

He served people. He noticed people others ignored. He touched people others wouldn't touch. He spent time with people respectable religious people avoided. He listened. He loved. He wasn't obsessed with building a reputation. He wasn't constantly trying to prove He was important.

In fact, some of the people who were most concerned with looking important were the very people Jesus challenged the hardest.

That's worth sitting with.

Because Jesus wasn't interested in helping us build a better ego. He was interested in helping us become different people.

And maybe that's part of what humility actually looks like. 

Humility isn't thinking you're worthless.

It isn't pretending you aren't talented.

It isn't refusing to acknowledge the things you've accomplished.

Humility is being secure enough that you don't have to make yourself the center of every story.

You can know you're gifted without needing everyone else to know it.

You can be right without needing to win.

You can lead without needing to control.

You can serve without needing recognition.

You can be overlooked without falling apart.

You can let someone else have the spotlight without wondering why you're not standing in it.

That's difficult.

Because ego wants the spotlight.

Jesus seemed much more interested in the servant's towel.

Maybe It's Not About You

This might be one of the most freeing sentences we can learn:

MAYBE IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU.

That criticism might not have been an attack. That disagreement might not have been disrespect. That person who didn't text back might not be mad at you. That opportunity someone else received might not have been stolen from you. That person who walked away might not have been rejecting you. That meeting you weren't invited to might not have been some elaborate conspiracy against you. And that mistake you made doesn't have to become a statement about who you are.

Sometimes we carry emotional weight that ego convinced us belonged to us.

Maybe you don't have to defend yourself against everything.

Maybe you don't have to win every argument.

Maybe you don't have to be understood by everyone.

Maybe you don't have to be the most important person in the room.

Maybe you don't even have to be right.

Maybe you can just be human.

Ego Is a Terrible Life Coach

Think about the advice ego gives us.

"Make sure they know you're right."

"Don't let them get away with that."

"You deserve more recognition."

"Don't apologize first."

"They need to know what they did to you."

"You can't let them think you're weak."

"Make sure people know your side."

"You need to be in control."

"Don't let anyone forget what you've accomplished."

That's terrible advice.

And yet we follow it all the time.

Maybe we need a different voice.

A voice that says:

Listen. Learn. Apologize. Let it go. Celebrate someone else.

You don't have to prove yourself. You don't have to control everything. You can be wrong and still be okay. You can be overlooked and still be valuable. You can be misunderstood and still be secure.

That's a much better coach.

The Ego Doesn't Have to Be the Coach Anymore

I don't think the goal is to destroy our ego.

That's probably impossible.

The goal is to stop letting it run the show.

We don't have to be the smartest person in the room.

We don't have to win every argument.

We don't have to receive all the credit.

We don't have to control every narrative.

We don't have to be needed by everyone.

We don't have to explain ourselves every time someone misunderstands us.

We can admit when we're wrong.

We can apologize without adding a five-minute explanation about why we were actually right.

We can celebrate someone else's success without wondering what it says about ours.

We can listen without preparing our rebuttal.

We can walk away from an argument without getting the last word.

We can let someone misunderstand us and trust that our character will eventually speak louder than our explanation.

That's freedom.

Because the less energy we spend protecting our ego, the more energy we have available to actually become better people.

Maybe that's the real problem with ego. It spends so much time protecting the version of us we want everyone else to see that it doesn't leave much room for becoming the person we're actually supposed to be.

So I'm trying to listen to my ego less.

Not because I don't matter.

But because I don't need to matter all the time.

I don't need to be right all the time.

I don't need to be noticed all the time.

I don't need to be in control all the time.

And I certainly don't need to make every situation about me.

Because when ego is driving, everything becomes a competition, a defense, or a threat.

But when humility takes the wheel, something changes.

We can listen. We can learn. We can apologize. We can celebrate other people. We can let go. We can love people without needing something back.

And maybe that's the life I actually want.

Not a life where my ego gets everything it wants.

A life where my ego finally realizes:

It doesn't get to be the coach anymore.