I’m really not into New Year's Resolutions. I don’t smoke, I’m not (touch wood) particularly overweight; I don’t eat too much junk food (normally) and I try my level best to be a nice person to everyone. I’m perfect.

No, just kidding.

This year I’ve got one resolution.

I have one major flaw that affects my day to day life and irritates me beyond belief: I can’t be wrong.

You know those annoying, will-stubbornly-sit-there-in-wrongness-for-all-of-eternity-kind of people?

That’s me. It’s not a conscious decision, I just literally cannot bear to say the words, “I was wrong” in any form or tense.

I put it down to being very competitive, but it doesn’t even have to be in competition with someone.

Sometimes it can be as trivial as discussing when someone’s birthday is (I still insist his birthday was the 29th, not the 30th).

I announced on Christmas day at our dinner table quiz that I knew for a fact Alex Turner was the lead singer of the Killers.

It was simple, I’m good with music and current affairs and celebrities, I’ve got a good memory.

It transpires that Alex Turner is in fact the lead singer of the Arctic Monkeys. I googled it, sceptical of the lies, and again: wrong.

This didn’t go down well. Mum looked to me and she knew full well that was one of those (rare) moments where I was undeniably wrong.

I have searched for a diagnosis, for some exceptionally long word that can describe this condition, but as Google has yet to find an answer, I have yet to find an excuse.

I am starting to realise that as difficult as being wrong is for me, I need to get to grips with it.

I’m not afraid to take responsibility for my actions, or to apologise if I think I’ve upset someone.

I think if that “I was wrong” phrase rolled off my tongue a bit more easily, then I would make 2014 a bit easier.

I’m going to make mistakes, hundreds probably, in 2014.

So next time someone’s birthday comes under scrutiny it would be nice if I could be graceful in defeat.

This effectively means: Mum, I promise I won’t slam the nearest door when you’re right and I’m, er, not.