It's only early March, and already, I feel like I've packed a year's worth of accomplishment into these first few months. January saw me tackle a sober month, a challenge I met head-on. Consistent workouts, four to five times a week, have become a non-negotiable part of my routine. And now, as Lent begins, I'm choosing to extend that sobriety further, committing to a period without alcohol. Beyond the physical, I've also found a rhythm with virtual church services – a testament to how adaptable we've all become – and read eight books, discovering the magic of audiobooks to keep my mind engaged.
But here's a thought: what if I made it all up?
Why would I even consider that? The truth is, I grew up with a mother who possessed the ability to see through any facade. There was no point in attempting a poker face or concealing anything. Honesty wasn't just a virtue; it was the only option. She fostered a culture where calling her for a ride after a party was always safer than drunk driving, where owning up to a fender bender was a given, and where her gut instincts about people, often proven right, were respected. She could even seemingly guess the cost of an impulse buy with accuracy – not magic, just the wisdom of lived experience.
That upbringing instilled in me a deep understanding that lying isn't just morally wrong; it's disrespectful. It implies a lack of respect for the intelligence of the person being deceived. "Do you think I'm stupid?" – a question I've heard, and perhaps asked countless times. As a child, I didn't fully grasp the inherent disrespect in dishonesty. I often justified it as a means of protection, for myself or others, but in reality, I was doing neither.
As I have aged, I can see how my mom developed her instincts. In an industry where I work with a lot of people, you learn a lot about people. You can tell when people lie, it's very apparent. I have learned to take certain conversations at face value, while also figuring out people that I trust. I realized it's not worth lying about something to get someone's approval. I was worried when I first introduced my husband to my family they weren't going to approve. But lying about any part of him would have been disrespecting him and myself.
As I start to think about the other lies/stupid stuff I did...
Did I spend way too much money on a golden doodle? Absolutely but I'm not going to lie about it, Bailey was a choice that I made. Did I spend $10,000 so I could drive a Mini Cooper and pretend I was in the Italian Job? 100% the worst purchase I made and I ate ramen to afford the payments. Did I keep my hair platinum blonde for some time because the guy I was with liked blondes? You betcha, I damaged the crap out of my hair while also not just admitting I am a natural brunette. We do silly things for the approval of others, we say silly things for people to like us. But the reality is the truth is so much easier. It's easier than losing money on a bad purchase, ruining your hair, or most importantly damaging a relationship with a family member.
It sounds so simple, but the truth really does set you free. You don't have to remember the lies you told or keep up with them.
At the end of the day, it's hey this is who I am and this is what I got going on. Listen to advice from those trying to help, and do your best to get better at decision making.
If you take anything from this post, don't lie to your parents. The future is uncertain, and there's a possibility they'll lose their memories. There's a possibility that someday they will forget who you are and then the lies you told them really are pointless.
Choose Honesty.
