The Zen of Owning Your Bullshit

There’s a question I think everyone should ask themselves from time to time:

Am I the asshole?

If you’ve never asked that question — not once, not even a whisper of it — then odds are, yeah… you probably are.

We’ve all met assholes. You’ve probably encountered one today. Hell, in the last 48 hours, you’ve likely seen someone cut in line, ghost a friend, act superior at work, or just let a door slam in your face. And if you can’t think of anyone? Congratulations, it’s you.

But here’s the thing: being an asshole isn’t always evil. It’s often a side effect of honesty, frustration, or just being human.

The Razor’s Edge of Truth

My father had a saying — “Con la verdad no se juega.”
You don’t play around with the truth.

It sounds simple, but it’s one of those phrases that sticks with you your whole life — like a pebble in your shoe, reminding you to walk carefully.

Because the truth is tricky.
The truth doesn’t always make you popular.
Sometimes it makes you the asshole in the room.

You tell someone, “It’s not the pants that make your ass look big — it’s your ass,” and suddenly you’re the bad guy.

But if we’re supposed to be chasing truth, shouldn’t we welcome it?
Nah. Most people want comfort, not clarity. They want a version of truth that flatters them.

My dad’s point wasn’t about being cruel — it was about being responsible with honesty. The truth isn’t a weapon. It’s a tool.
You don’t swing it to hurt people. You use it to build something better.

The Door at JV’s Pizza

A few days ago, I went to pick up some pizzas from a local joint — JV’s. Great food, not fancy, but solid. I’ve got my hands full, trying to get out the door, and there’s a guy right in front of me. Makes full eye contact — like predator-level eye contact — then lets the door close right in my face.

Okay. Fine. I back up, nudge it open with my shoulder, whatever.

Then his wife (or girlfriend) comes out behind me.
So, me being me, I hold the door open for her.
She smiles and says, “Thank you.”

And this dude — the same one who let it slam on me — turns around and glares at me like I just insulted his ancestors.

Now, I didn’t say anything. I didn’t have to. I knew in that tiny, perfect moment that he’d spend the rest of the car ride home wondering what the hell I meant by that “thank you.”
That’s the good kind of assholeness — the surgical strike.

Because yeah, sometimes you have to be an asshole to make a point. But do it with purpose, not pettiness.

The Asshole Spectrum

There are levels to this.
At one end, you’ve got the cruel assholes — the bullies, the trolls, the people who sprinkle shit on everyone’s ice cream just to feel tall.
At the other end, you’ve got the honest assholes — the ones who tell you the truth, even when it hurts, because it needs to be said.

The goal is to live somewhere in between — the Zen of Assholeness.
Right on that razor’s edge between brutal honesty and empathy.
Because someone’s gotta say it, but someone’s also gotta care how it lands.

The Lesson

The truth is messy.
Sometimes you’re right but still come off like a jerk.
Sometimes you’re wrong and look like a saint.
But if you can pause — just for a second — and ask yourself, “Am I the asshole right now?”
That’s when you start leveling up.

That’s when you stop reacting and start reflecting.

We live in a world where everyone’s ready to pile on, to shout, to dunk, to “gotcha.”
Being thoughtful, self-aware, and honest without being cruel — that’s rebellion now.

So, be brave enough to tell the truth.
Be kind enough to own it when it hurts someone.
And if you have to be an asshole, at least be one with purpose.

Because the truth matters — and as my father said, con la verdad no se juega.
You don’t play around with it.

And if you hold onto that, even just a little — you might actually make the world one asshole lighter.

🧩 TL;DR

You can’t escape being an asshole sometimes. But you can choose why and how you do it.
Be the honest one, not the cruel one.
And as always — be good.