How to Become Less Stubborn and Rigid (Without Pulling a Hamstring in the Process)


Introduction: Stubbornness, Humanity’s Favorite Hobby

Let’s get real for a second: stubbornness is basically humanity’s default operating system. Somewhere deep in your DNA, right between “must eat carbs” and “pretend to know what you’re talking about,” lives the software patch called I Am Never Wrong 1.0.

It doesn’t matter if you’re a 92-year-old grandparent refusing to touch a smartphone (“I already have a perfectly good landline, thank you very much”) or a 22-year-old tech bro arguing that crypto is the cure for loneliness. People cling to their opinions like toddlers clutching sticky juice boxes. Rigid thinking is comfortable. Predictable. Like an old pair of underwear—gross, but familiar.

But here’s the problem: life doesn’t give a damn about your rigid rules. It keeps throwing curveballs, and the people who bend survive. The people who don’t? They’re the ones screaming into customer service hotlines because the new TV remote “doesn’t work like the old one.”

So, if you’re ready to unclench your mental muscles and stop living life as a concrete statue, buckle up. Or don’t. You probably hate being told what to do anyway.


Part 1: Admit You’re the Problem

Ah yes, step one: self-awareness. Which, coincidentally, is the one thing most stubborn people lack. You’re not “principled.” You’re not “old-fashioned.” You’re not “just being logical.” No. You’re being difficult. Full stop.

Rigid people love to rebrand their stubbornness like it’s a quirky personality trait.

  • “I just have high standards.” Translation: I throw tantrums when things aren’t my way.

  • “I value tradition.” Translation: I’m allergic to change and possibly Wi-Fi.

  • “I’m a perfectionist.” Translation: I’ll die on a hill defending my Excel spreadsheet formatting.

The first step to flexibility is admitting you’re an obstinate mule in human clothing. Until you do that, every piece of advice will bounce off you like Nerf darts hitting a brick wall.


Part 2: Stop Treating Every Opinion Like a Custody Battle

Rigid people treat arguments like wars. Every disagreement is the Alamo. Every minor difference in taste is a personal betrayal. Your friend likes pineapple on pizza? Suddenly you’re planning their funeral.

But here’s a hot tip: not every hill is worth dying on. In fact, most hills aren’t even worth climbing. You don’t need to argue for three hours about which movie trilogy is better. (It’s Lord of the Rings, by the way, but let it go.)

The problem with stubborn people is they think backing down equals weakness. No, my friend. Backing down equals peace and an early bedtime. And honestly, what’s more powerful than getting extra REM sleep while the other guy is still ranting about whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie?


Part 3: Learn the Fine Art of Shutting the Hell Up

Here’s a radical idea: when someone presents a different viewpoint, instead of launching into a five-point manifesto, just shut up and listen.

Rigid folks have two listening modes:

  1. “Waiting for their turn to speak.”

  2. “Pretending to listen while silently rehearsing their counterargument.”

But genuine listening? Forget it. Listening requires curiosity. Curiosity requires admitting you don’t know everything. And that, for stubborn people, feels like chewing broken glass.

So, start small. Nod. Make a noise like “hmm.” Pretend you’re taking notes in your brain. And for the love of God, don’t interrupt every five seconds with “Well actually…” Unless you want to die alone, in a house where every chair is positioned facing your framed college debate trophy.


Part 4: Try Saying the Forbidden Phrase: “I Might Be Wrong”

I know, I know. For rigid people, these four words feel like sacrilege. Like Voldemort, but worse.

But let’s break it down. Saying “I might be wrong” doesn’t mean you’re wrong. It just means you’re not 100% sure you’re right. That tiny gap is called humility, and it won’t kill you. Promise.

In fact, it might save you from looking like a clown. Remember all those people who swore the internet was just a fad? Or that Blockbuster would never die? Yeah. They probably would’ve benefitted from whispering, “I might be wrong” once in a while.


Part 5: Flexibility Is Sexy (No, Really)

Nothing kills the mood faster than stubbornness. Imagine you’re on a date:

  • You insist on your restaurant choice.

  • You order for both of you.

  • You argue about the best route home.

Congrats, you’re basically dating a traffic cop. And nobody wants that.

Flexibility, on the other hand, is magnetic. People love those who can roll with the punches. Who say, “Sure, let’s try Ethiopian food tonight.” Who don’t explode when their flight is delayed. Who treat change as an adventure, not an act of terrorism.

Want to be more attractive? Stop being a rigid fossil. Spontaneity is cheaper than cologne.


Part 6: Practice the Art of Losing

Rigid people hate losing more than they hate public Wi-Fi passwords. They’ll twist logic into a pretzel to avoid admitting defeat.

But here’s a paradox: the more you embrace losing, the less it stings. Lose on purpose sometimes. Let someone else win an argument about which Star Wars prequel was the worst. (Spoiler: it’s all of them.)

Losing gracefully shows you’re confident enough not to cling to every inch of ground like a raccoon hoarding trash. And confidence is the ultimate flex.


Part 7: Stop Romanticizing Your Trauma Bond with Certainty

Let’s be blunt: rigidity is often fear in disguise. Fear of change. Fear of being irrelevant. Fear of having to re-download all your apps on a new phone.

But uncertainty is where life actually happens. New jobs. New relationships. New Netflix passwords after your roommate moves out. If you’re too rigid to step into uncertainty, you’re basically living in a padded cell of your own making.

And guess what? No one wants to visit your padded cell. It smells like mothballs and bad opinions.


Part 8: Learn to Laugh at Yourself

Nothing breaks rigidity faster than humor. If you can laugh at your own nonsense, you’re already halfway cured.

Stubborn people take themselves way too seriously. They think every mispronounced word is a sign of weakness, every forgotten fact a national scandal. Relax. The universe isn’t grading you. No one cares that you said “expresso” instead of “espresso,” except maybe one barista who will spit in your latte.

If you can’t laugh at yourself, you’re basically signing up for a lifetime of being the punchline instead of joining in on the joke.


Part 9: Expand Your Damn Perspective

Rigid people live in tiny bubbles. Their way of thinking is a studio apartment with no windows.

Want to get flexible? Start exposing yourself to different people, ideas, and experiences. Travel, read outside your genre, talk to someone whose politics make you want to scream into a pillow.

Will it make you uncomfortable? Yes. Will it make you less rigid? Absolutely. Will you occasionally want to set fire to a book club? Probably. But growth isn’t pretty.


Part 10: Embrace the Chaos (Or at Least Stop Crying About It)

At the end of the day, life is messy. It doesn’t care about your rules, your preferences, or your need to alphabetize your spice rack.

The truly flexible people—the ones who thrive—don’t resist chaos. They waltz with it. They don’t scream when their plans get derailed. They grab a drink, shrug, and say, “Well, that was unexpected.”

If you want to be less stubborn, stop demanding life behave itself. It never has. It never will. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you’ll stop looking like a grumpy mall cop yelling at teenagers.


Conclusion: From Concrete to Clay

So here’s the deal: stubbornness is easy. Flexibility takes effort. But one keeps you trapped in a prison of your own making, and the other opens doors you didn’t even know existed.

Stop being the concrete statue everyone avoids. Be the clay—malleable, adaptable, slightly messy, but infinitely more useful.

Because at the end of the day, no one ever wrote a love poem about how sexy it was that their partner “never budged an inch.” They wrote it about people who laughed, adapted, grew, and danced badly at weddings.

So unclench. Breathe. And for once in your damn life, try something new without writing a dissertation on why you hate it.

Post a Comment

Previous Post Next Post

Contact Form