I have lied in my life. I have told whoppers on occasion. Everyone lies. Sometimes it’s considered innocent, like telling someone they aren’t fat or are a good singer ’cause you don’t want to hurt their feelings. Sometimes it’s brutal, like a man telling his wife he was working late when in reality he was getting stoned and banging some chick he met online…but everybody lies.
In spite of all this, I do prefer honesty. Sometimes, I’m honest to a fault. This blog, for instance, has been an outlet for me to share and over share about my life. I’m open and honest about everything from my sex life to my lettuce preferences to my mental anguish.
Since I prefer to be honest, I also prefer honesty from others. It’s difficult, then, when so many people around me are evasive or prefer to respond in riddles and punch lines. I know that not everyone is as okay as I am with baring themselves to close friends, let alone veritable strangers, but that conscious acceptance is a far cry from truly understanding where others are coming from.
I said all that to tell you this: lie to me believably or be honest with me about why you won’t be honest with me. I’ll understand if you just don’t trust me. I can take it. I’m a big girl.