Where Pride will Take You

Let me take you back to my childhood, where I earned the title of Little Miss Know-It-All—not because I actually knew it all, but because I pretended to. Deep down, I was winging it, but my pride wouldn’t let anyone see that. If someone challenged me, I’d double down with the confidence of a kid who just learned what a thesaurus is but has no idea how to use it.

I’d correct people with this air of authority, throwing out random “facts” like they were gospel. Did I always know what I was talking about? Absolutely not. But I wasn’t about to let something like truth get in the way of proving my point. I didn’t want people to know how unsure I felt—about life, about myself, about anything.

By the time I reached young adulthood, you’d think I would have grown out of it. I hadn’t. But here’s the twist—I wasn’t walking around with real confidence. I just didn’t want anyone to know how clueless I was. So, I acted like I had everything under control, even though I didn’t know basic life skills. Like, for example, that you have to pay for water.

Yes, water. I thought it was free. It rains, doesn’t it? Imagine my shock when I got my first utility bill. The audacity of the world, charging me for showers and clean dishes. And yet, despite not knowing how the basics of adulting worked, I convinced myself I didn’t need anyone’s help.

But here’s where the trouble really started: I was so scared of looking like I didn’t know what I was doing that I ignored advice from people who actually did know what they were doing. My pride wouldn’t let me admit I needed help. Proverbs 13:10 describes my life perfectly:

“Where there is strife, there is pride, but wisdom is found in those who take advice.”

Pride disguised as fake confidence was running the show. Every time someone tried to offer wisdom, I’d brush it off. “I’ve got it under control,” I’d say, while internally panicking over things like car insurance and how to make pasta without burning the house down.

And the strife? Oh, it was there. In my relationships, where my defensiveness pushed people away. In my finances, where my lack of knowledge led to overdraft fees. In my faith, where I struggled because I thought I had to figure everything out on my own instead of leaning on God.

The truth is, I didn’t have it all together—and pretending I did only made things harder.

It took a series of humbling moments to change me:

• The time I overdrafted my bank account because I didn’t understand budgeting.

• The time my car broke down because I ignored advice to get regular oil changes.

• The time I cried in frustration, realizing I didn’t have to carry all this pressure alone.

God used those moments to remind me of something important: I don’t have to know it all. Wisdom isn’t about pretending to have it together—it’s about humility. It’s about being willing to listen, to learn, to admit when you’re in over your head.

These days, I’m learning to let go of my pride. To take advice from people who’ve been there. To lean on God instead of trying to control everything myself. And honestly? It’s freeing.

So, if you’re sitting there thinking you’ve got it all under control—like I did—can I offer you a friendly word of advice? You don’t have to figure it all out on your own. Let go of the pride, take the advice, and let God’s wisdom guide you. Trust me, life is a lot less stressful when you stop pretending to know everything and start learning from those who’ve been there before.

Oh, and pay your water bill. You’re welcome.