What’s something you used to believe as a kid that seems ridiculous now?

When I was in fourth grade, a friend convinced me that swallowing Listerine mouthwash would make my breath stay fresh longer. The funny thing is, she had all the evidence I needed. Her breath was always fresh. She sounded confident. She even had tips on how to do it. To my young mind, that was enough. If it looked like it worked, and someone I trusted believed it, then it had to be true.

So I swallowed Listerine.

I don’t remember how often I did it, what made me stop, or even when I stopped. I just remember believing it with complete conviction.

Years later, I looked it up out of curiosity. It turns out Listerine isn’t meant to be swallowed at all. While accidentally swallowing a small amount is usually not dangerous, ingesting it can cause stomach irritation, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, and in larger amounts, alcohol poisoning because many formulas contain a high percentage of alcohol.

Looking back, I laugh, but it also reminds me of something deeper.

As children, we often mistake confidence for wisdom. We assume that if someone sounds certain, gets results, or seems experienced, they must be right. We don’t always have the discernment to question what we’re being taught.

Thankfully, that’s one lesson I outgrew.

Now I know that conviction alone doesn’t make something true. Wisdom asks questions. Wisdom tests what it hears. And wisdom understands that sincerity and certainty are not substitutes for truth.