I'm An Asshole, But I'm Not Wrong

By Michael Kelman Portney

Let's get one thing straight: I'm an asshole. Not in the careless, rude-for-the-sake-of-it kind of way. No, I'm the asshole who points out the truths everyone else is too polite, too scared, or too goddamn complacent to address. I’m the guy that raises his hand in class to call bullshit on the professor when he says “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” I’m the guy that I’m the guy that tells your toxic douchebag boyfriend that he’s a toxic douchebag. I’m the guy that And you know what? I’m fine with it, because while you may hate me for it, I’m not wrong.

Truth Hurts, and I’ll Rub Salt in That Wound

Why am I like this? Because truth matters. In a world where people tiptoe around hard realities like they’re walking on broken glass, I stomp through with steel-toed boots. We’re living in an era of comfort-driven lies—little white ones, big insidious ones, and the ones we tell ourselves to justify our own mediocrity. The truth is painful, and people avoid it like it’s contagious. Guess what? It is contagious, but only if you have the guts to catch it.

I don’t tell people what they want to hear; I tell them what they need to hear. Yes, that makes me the asshole in the room, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sugarcoat reality so you can sleep better at night. If your comfort comes at the expense of progress, then your comfort is the problem.

Nice Gets You Nowhere

Society worships at the altar of “nice.” Be polite. Don’t rock the boat. Smile and nod, even when someone is saying something so idiotic you can feel your IQ dropping just from listening. Nice isn’t a virtue—it’s a weapon used by weak people to maintain the status quo.

Being nice won’t fix your problems. Being nice won’t dismantle systems of corruption, inequality, or ignorance. Being nice sure as hell won’t get you what you want out of life. But being right? That changes everything. The problem is, being right often requires stepping on toes, bruising egos, and making enemies. So be it.

The Price of Being Right

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you about being right: it’s lonely. People don’t like being told they’re wrong, even if (especially if) they are. They’ll label you as arrogant, difficult, or—you guessed it—an asshole.

But if the choice is between being liked and being right, I’ll choose right every time. Why? Because progress doesn’t come from consensus; it comes from conflict. It comes from someone having the guts to challenge the status quo, to point out the flaws, and to demand better.

And let’s be honest—most people don’t want better. They want easier. They want a version of the truth that doesn’t force them to confront their own complicity, laziness, or hypocrisy. That’s not my game. If you want to live in a bubble, I’ll be the needle that pops it.

You Can Hate Me, but You Can’t Ignore Me

Here’s the kicker: people might hate me, but they can’t ignore me. That’s the thing about truth—it sticks. Once you’ve heard it, you can’t unhear it, no matter how much you wish you could.

So go ahead, call me an asshole. Complain that I’m too blunt, too harsh, too unrelenting. But when you’re lying awake at night, replaying the conversation you had with me, remember that the discomfort you’re feeling is the first step toward growth. Hate me all you want, but deep down, you know I’m not wrong.

And if I’m wrong? Prove it. I’ll gladly admit it. But until then, I’m going to keep doing what I do best: being the asshole you didn’t know you needed. Because sometimes, the asshole is the only one brave enough to tell you the truth.