How to Tell the Truth

I've always prided myself on being a truthful person.  I have said more times than I can count that I would rather be a woman who tells the painful truth than be the one who tells sweet little lies (thanks, Stevie).  I'm not saying I haven't committed the little white lie here and there, "No, that dress doesn't make you look fat at all," to the friend in the middle of a body-issue meltdown or "Of course I want to come to your insert-completely-pointless-and-totally-uninteresting-function."  I've played the game when I've had to, it's part of life, that easing through, that glossing over, but when it comes to big things, I'm a truth teller.  I don't have a choice.

You see, the people who know me know when I'm lying, know when I'm pretending things are okay when really I am about a half a second away from splitting apart like a lightning struck tree, my charred insides still smoking from impact as I list first right, then left, then down.  They know when I'm hiding and evading and the people who really really know me, the ones that I simply could not function without, don't let me do either.  They call me on everything, make me confront, make me talk, make me tell the truth.  They help me be who I want to be, even when I'm terribly afraid of her.

So, in case you aren't sure how to do this little truth thing yourself (It's not easy...I make it look easy...) here are some ifs for you:

1) If you mean it, say it.  If you really mean that shirt she's wearing is the most hideous thing you've ever laid eyes on, tell her.  If that's not true, just smile when she says how much she loves it.  That smile acknowledges her joy and frees you from comment.

2) If there's even the slightest chance that you'll regret not telling, tell.  You don't want to be the guy looking through old photographs who realizes she was there, right in front of him, but he was too scared to tell her.

3) If your life will change for the better, speak.  Sure, change is frightening and nauseating and difficult and bleary eyed at times, but consider the alternative: a lifetime of 'this is as good as it gets' isn't good for anyone.

4) If someone else can learn from your example, sing out, Louise.  I stand in front of my students and know that if I don't tell them the truth, I'm just one more adult that doesn't respect them enough or trust them enough to handle what's really going on.  If I lie, I become one more false prophet spouting poetry and literature from a mouth not worthy of either.  They, and everyone around me, deserve to hear what I really think, who I really am, because maybe it will help them show themselves, too.  Wouldn't it be great if we all could do that?  Tell the truth?  Be authentic?

I think so.  I really do.