The Little Lies We Tell

Not too long ago I wrote a piece on Integrity, today I take a little different spin on it with:  What if we told our truth every single time?

So often, we find ourselves responding with, “It’s fine.” When, in fact, it might not be fine at all. I wonder what it is about our society that makes us so quick to tell people what we think they want to hear. Why are we sometimes so afraid to be vulnerable and simply tell the truth?  This really came up for me today when I stopped for my much-needed “fix” of 7 Brew. The sweet girl at the window struck up a friendly conversation and asked what I was up today. I responded with the usual, “Just running errands.”  Then she asked how my weekend had been.  Well, instead of the automatic “fine,” I decided to tell the truth. I said, “Not great. I've been fighting a kidney stone.” (True story!)  To say she was taken aback would probably be an understatement. She immediately started searching for a way to change the subject. I had clearly made her uncomfortable.

But at least I was honest, right?

That interaction got me thinking about something I had written about years ago, and I thought it might be fun to revisit it. This time, with a little silly story about telling the truth—or, more accurately, telling a lie.

“Everybody lies.” House said it, and Jimmy Kimmel seems to agree. In fact, he has an entire segment dedicated to catching people in their little fabrications. The link below will take you to one of his segments where people on the street are asked about the Winter Olympics, which hadn't even happened yet at the time of filming. Rather than simply admitting they weren't watching or didn't know anything about it, people confidently made up stories and pretended to know exactly what was going on.  It struck me as hilarious how ridiculous it was to lie about something so insignificant. I even told a friend that I would NEVER lie about something so dumb.  And then, later that very same day, I found myself at GNC purchasing some vitamins.  As I walked into the store, a very friendly gentleman greeted me with, “So, you're back!”  I paused for a moment, completely confused. I hadn't been to GNC in months and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. But instead of explaining that, I quietly looked up and said, “Yep.”  He continued by asking how I was doing on my new vitamins and my new healthy lifestyle. Without missing a beat, I enthusiastically replied, “Great! Everything is going really well!”  He seemed genuinely delighted that I had benefited from his wonderful advice and guidance. Whatever that advice and guidance might have been!  I quickly purchased my vitamins and headed to my car, where I proceeded to laugh uncontrollably.  Everyone lies. Including me. I had just proven it to myself!

But here's the thing. Beneath the humor, I think there is something much more meaningful to consider.  What if, when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable and tell the truth, we give others permission to do the same?  Maybe the truth doesn't always need to be polished, packaged, or made more comfortable for the person hearing it. Maybe sometimes it's okay to say we're struggling, that things aren't great, that we're having a hard day, or that we simply don't know the answer.

In my work as a therapist, I see how much people long to know that they aren't alone in their experiences. We want to know that someone else has been there, that someone else understands, and that we're not sitting on our own little island feeling like we're the only ones.  Sometimes, the most meaningful connections happen when we stop pretending everything is fine.

So, all silliness aside, what would happen if we were a little more honest with one another? What if we stopped defaulting to the expected answer and started giving the authentic one?  What if telling the truth, even in the smallest everyday interactions, became an invitation for others to do the same?  I wonder what kind of world we might create if we all felt a little safer telling our truth.