My passion for an argument was relentless – and damaging. Then my granddaughter intervened | Sergey Maidukov

Why was I so fixated on being right all of the time? Calmly, after a board game outburst, a seven-year-old set me straight

I have my fair share of flaws, just like anyone else. Neither my caffeine habit nor my relentless fixation on the news cycle are particularly endearing habits, but those were mere trifles compared with my obsession with being right. From what colour to paint the kitchen to the origin of a famous quote, or even something as trivial as what to have for dinner, I loved to argue. Day or night, I was always ready to spar with whoever was unlucky enough to strike up a conversation with me.

My challengers included my children, my wife, friends and even strangers. During these debates, I could be playfully teasing, passionately opposing, or even dismissively superior. But what was always true was that I was never really listening to the other person's perspective. For some unexplored reason, I would always consider my own argument to be more competent and would try to prove it in every possible way.

Sergey Maidukov is an author who lives in Kyiv