I was 15-minutes late for an important meeting today and this almost never happens to me. I was late because I was so sure I knew where I was going, but I didn’t, and then when I checked my phone’s GPS, I discovered I was more than a mile away with just five minutes to go. This is just a symptom of a deeper problem I have, and the problem is not tardiness, I’m 99.9% on time. I’m arrogant. I lack consideration for myself and others. I think this incident reveals my character flaw of lack of consideration.
Grok:
It’s great that you’re reflecting on this—it’s not easy to turn a frustrating moment like being late into a lens on something deeper. Let’s unpack it and see what’s really going on with this “arrogance” and “lack of consideration” you’re pinning on yourself.
You say you’re 99.9% on time, and I believe it—sounds like you’ve got a solid track record. So this slip-up, missing a meeting because you were “so sure” you knew the way, stands out. You didn’t just get lost; you trusted your gut over checking the GPS, and it cost you. A mile off isn’t a small detour—it’s a decent trek, enough to make you late for something important. That sting of realization, phone in hand, staring at the dot a mile from where you should be, probably hit hard. It’s not the tardiness itself that’s gnawing at you, though—it’s what it signals.
Calling it arrogance makes sense on the surface. You figured you had it locked, no need for a map, because you’re that guy—competent, in control. It’s not a wild leap: overconfidence can blind you to double-checking. But “lack of consideration for myself and others”? That’s a heavier charge. If you were rushing to a meeting, you likely weren’t thinking, “Screw them, I’ll roll in whenever.” More like, “I’ve got this, no sweat.” The miss didn’t come from apathy—it came from betting too hard on your own instincts. That’s less about dismissing others and more about misjudging yourself.
Let’s test it. If you lack consideration generally, you’d see it elsewhere—blowing off plans, ignoring people’s time, half-assing stuff that matters. But 99.9% punctuality says otherwise—you’re reliable, dialed in. This feels more like a one-off hubris glitch than a character flaw etched in stone. You didn’t check the GPS because you assumed you didn’t need to, not because you don’t care. The fallout—letting others down, scrambling to recover—seems to bug you enough to write this, which screams self-awareness, not indifference.
Could it point to a deeper thread? Maybe. If you lean on gut over prep in other spots—work, relationships, decisions—and it bites you, that’s a pattern worth eyeing. Arrogance isn’t always loud; it can be quiet, like skipping the “just in case” step because you’re too sure. But pinning it as “lack of consideration” feels harsh—consideration’s about intent, and yours wasn’t to flake. You got cocky, not callous. The real flaw might be less about others and more about overtrusting your own compass—then beating yourself up when it spins wrong.
What’s your gut now? Was this a blip of pride, or do you see it echoing bigger? You’re already dissecting it—that’s not the move of someone who doesn’t give a damn.
How do I become a more considerate person? First, how do I become more considerate of myself. Second, how do I become more considerate of others while paying appropriate attention to my own interests. I don’t want to be a saint or a showy moralist. I just want to be a mensch.
Grok:
You’re aiming to be a mensch—a solid, grounded person who’s considerate without losing yourself in the process. That’s a practical goal, not some lofty sainthood, and it fits your vibe of wanting real balance over flash. Let’s split this into two chunks: being considerate to yourself first, then to others without screwing yourself over. Here’s how to pull it off.
Being More Considerate of Yourself
This starts with treating yourself like you’d treat a friend you respect—not coddling, but not kicking yourself either. Your meeting slip-up shows you’re hard on yourself—calling it arrogance and a character flaw after one miss when you’re 99.9% on time. That’s a clue: consideration for yourself means easing up on the self-whip and building habits that don’t leave you scrambling.
Pause and Check In: Before you barrel ahead—like trusting your gut on directions—ask, “Am I setting myself up to win here?” A quick GPS peek isn’t weakness; it’s respecting your own time and sanity. Build a habit of small reality checks—five seconds to confirm a route, a deadline, whatever. It’s not doubt; it’s giving yourself a break from avoidable stress.Own Your Limits: You’re not a GPS satellite—you can misjudge a mile. That’s human, not a flaw. Next time you’re tempted to wing it, remind yourself: “I’m good, but I’m not infallible.” It’s not humility for show; it’s practical—keeps you from running on fumes or beating yourself up later.
Restock Your Tank: Consideration’s giving yourself what you need to function. Skip the martyr bit—sleep enough, eat decently, carve out 20 minutes to decompress if you’re wired. You’re no use to anyone, including you, if you’re burned out. Yesterday’s GPS flub? Might’ve been sharper with a clearer head.
Start small: next meeting, double-check the address before you’re late, not after. It’s not about perfection—it’s about not screwing yourself out of arrogance or neglect. You’ll feel steadier, less rattled by slip-ups.
Being More Considerate of Others (Without Losing Yourself)
Now, extending that to others while keeping your own interests in play—that’s the mensch sweet spot. You don’t want to be a doormat or a preachy moralist, just a guy who shows up right. Here’s how.
See Their Angle, Briefly: Before you act, clock what others might need. Your meeting folks—were they pissed, worried, or just waiting? A quick, “Hey, I got turned around, sorry for the delay,” costs you nothing and signals you’re not oblivious. It’s not groveling—it’s basic respect that keeps things smooth.Set Clear Lines: Consideration isn’t self-sacrifice. If you’re rushing to that meeting, you don’t skip it to help a stranger fix a tire—you text ahead to say you’re delayed. Balance means knowing your “yes” to others doesn’t auto-nuke your own stuff. Practice saying, “I can help, but I’ve got this first”—calm, firm, no guilt.
Follow Through Small: Big gestures aren’t the point—reliability is. You’re 99.9% on time? Keep that, but add a heads-up if you’re cutting it close. People notice the guy who doesn’t leave them guessing. It’s not showy—it’s steady.
Listen, Don’t Fix: Sometimes consideration’s just hearing someone out—your boss venting about the meeting, a friend griping—without jumping to solve it or one-up them. Five minutes of ear-on saves you pretending to care later. Your interests stay intact; you’re just not a brick wall.
Tie it to yesterday: if you’d checked the GPS and left earlier, you’d have spared them (and you) the hassle. Next time, that’s your move—not for sainthood, but because it’s decent. The trick’s integrating it without obsession—say no when it’s too much, but don’t flake when it’s easy to show up.
Pulling It Together
Start with you: one daily check-in—route, schedule, energy—cuts the arrogance trap. Then others: one small nod to their time or needs, like a heads-up text, keeps you a mensch without bending over backwards. You’re not rewriting your soul—just tweaking the dials. Test it this week—see if you feel less like the guy who’s “more than a mile away” and more like the one who’s got it covered. What’s your first step sound like?
How do I appropriately let people know, people who matter to me, that I know I have flaws and I have done stupid things, without inviting their derisive gossip and contempt. I often find that when I open up to people I don’t know well, they then treat me with contempt, and that stings. I believe you should never share anything with people if you are not OK with them gossiping about it. What do you think?
Grok:
You’re wrestling with a real tension here—wanting to be honest about your flaws with people who matter, like owning that GPS flub or your self-diagnosed arrogance, but dodging the contempt or gossip that can follow. That sting you feel when folks you barely know turn your openness into ammo? It’s a legit worry, and your rule—“never share anything you’re not OK with them gossiping about”—has teeth. Let’s figure out how to thread this needle: showing your cards to the right people, the right way, without handing them a free pass to dunk on you.
Owning Flaws Without Feeding the Sharks
You’re spot-on that vulnerability can backfire—people can be petty, and not everyone deserves your raw self. The key’s controlling the frame and picking your audience. Here’s how to let those who matter know you’re flawed, not perfect, without inviting derision.
Keep It Light, Specific, and Done: Don’t unload a soul-baring confession—pin it to something concrete. Say it’s a close friend after your meeting snafu. Try, “Man, I was so sure I knew the way, didn’t even check my phone—ended up a mile off. What a dumb move.” It’s real, it’s you, but it’s not a plea for pity or a blank check for judgment. Laugh it off, move on—they’ll see you’re human, not a target.Own It, Don’t Wallow: People sniff out self-pity like blood in the water—it invites contempt. Compare: “I’m such an arrogant idiot, I screwed up again,” vs. “Yeah, I got cocky and paid for it—lesson learned.” First one begs for gossip; second one shuts the door. You’re flawed, not broken—signal that, and the “people who matter” are less likely to twist it.
Pick the Inner Circle: Your rule about gossip’s gold—only share with folks you’d trust with a secret, even if they blab. Not the random coworker or new buddy who’s still sizing you up. That sting from strangers turning on you? It’s because they don’t owe you loyalty. Test closeness first—do they share their own mess-ups? If not, clam up.
Frame It as Growth: If it’s deeper—like telling family you’re working on consideration—tie it to forward motion. “I’ve noticed I can steamroll myself sometimes, like yesterday getting lost. Trying to ease up on that.” It’s not a flaw dump; it’s a heads-up you’re leveling up. Harder to mock someone who’s already on it.
Why Your Rule Works (and When It Doesn’t)
Your “never share unless you’re OK with gossip” is a solid shield—people will talk, especially if they’re shallow or insecure. That contempt you’ve caught from casual opens? It’s them flexing superiority, not you being weak. Data’s thin, but psych studies (e.g., Brene Brown’s vulnerability work) suggest oversharing with untested folks risks “empathy miss”—they don’t connect, they judge. Your 99.9% punctuality guy doesn’t need to spill to the world; save it for the 1-2 who’ve earned it. I’d tweak your rule, though: it’s not just gossip-readiness—it’s “share only if the sting won’t wreck you.” If a close friend blabs and it hurts, that’s info—adjust the circle.
My Take
You’re not wrong—openness is a gamble, and you’ve felt the downside. I’d say you’re less arrogant than cautious now, which is smart. Keep that filter: flaws to strangers are chum; flaws to the inner sanctum are bonds—if they’re the right people. Test it—next time you fumble, drop a casual “yep, I blew it” to someone tight, see how they roll. If they smirk or spread it, they’re out. If they nod or share back, they’re in. You’ll build a crew that gets you, no contempt needed. What’s your next move—got someone in mind to try this with?
