Do you know who irks me?
Self-proclaimed overly-honest people. You know the ones. Maybe you are one. I’m talking of the people who love to chirp out as often as possible, “I NEVER LIE!” Then, if you call them out on it, they get super defensive and swear up and down and all around the hills of Arkansas that they, most certainly, “NEVER, EVER, EVER, EVER LIE! EVER!”
Psht. Yeah, right. Humaning doesn’t work like that.
There are just far too many insecurities thriving deep inside each of us for that to be true. And since every lie we tell is nearly always a symptom of some sort of insecurity, then how is it possible for anyone to never, ever lie. We all have insecurities. Sometimes insecurities we weren’t expecting are brought to the surface. It’s part of being human.
But first, let’s talk about the two kinds of lies. There are the white lies. And there are the big, fat, bald-faced lies.
Everyone white lies. Everyone. Don’t even try to say you don’t.
White lies can be as simple as saying you feel fine when you actually just got in a big fight with your husband, then they can meander over to acting a little sicker (or healthier) than you actually are, and they can range all the way to “no, I’ve been up for a while,” when you don’t want someone to know they caught you being lazy and sleeping in. This post isn’t about white lies. White lies are a part of life. No. This post is about big, fat, bald-faced lies.
And how honest people do tell them once in a while. Er, mostly honest people, anyway.
I do believe there are mostly honest people. I believe there are lots of them. I believe that some people even go weeks, or months, or maybe years without telling any big, fat, bald-faced lies. But I believe everyone, no matter how honest, how full of integrity, or how upstanding they are, slips and tells a big one here or there.
I’m one of those mostly honest people. But I haven’t always been.
I used to be a chronic liar. From my late teens to my early 20s, I didn’t just tell big lies about things that actually were going on in my life, I invented wild stories that took place, relationships that didn’t exist, grandiose reasons for being late, etc. I got so lost in lying that I couldn’t separate reality from fiction any longer.
Then, I got busted (big time) in a huge lie. I hurt someone I loved. It shook me so hard that I did a complete 180 and became a little overly honest thereafter. The web of deceit in my life had become so tangled, and the burden of dishonesty had become so heavy, that when the cards were turned face-up, I had no choice but to let the burden go and climb out of the web, thus freeing myself of what I didn’t even realize was weighing me down so constantly. As bad as the situation was, the freedom I felt was so intense that I devoted everything within me to be a completely honest person from there on out.
Oh, it took a year or two to break free of the habitual side of it, but I dedicated myself to that cause, and I did what I had to do to never go back.
And now… I am, quite honestly, a very honest person.