I’d like to think that people don’t set out to be dishonest. It’s probably not true in some instances, but I still like to think that this is a general rule.
I’m sure that the word ‘dishonesty’ immediately connotes thoughts of malice, deceit and fraud, but this isn’t always the case. I’m learning that the opposite of honesty isn’t always dishonesty per se.
Sometimes, it’s fear.
Fear of rejection.
Fear of ridicule.
Fear of criticism.
Fear of disappointing others.
Fear of judgment.
So many fears.
And so we tend to hide our true needs. We squelch our dreams. We pretend that we are fine. That we aren’t drowning in our own busyness. That we aren’t dissatisfied with our decisions. That we aren’t yearning for more.
Why would we, anyway?
Don’t we have to be busy to be important?
Don’t we have to make decisions in accordance with the status quo?
Don’t responsible adults set aside the ‘now’ for the high rolling future?
For the avoidance of all doubt, the answer to each of the above is ‘no’.
But when we answer all of the above in the affirmative, we aren’t being honest with ourselves.
When we don’t admit what’s on our heart because we are afraid of what others may think, we fool ourselves into believing that ignoring our instincts is laudable.
When we hide our convictions because we don’t want to deal with possible rejection, we accept the false claims that to be accepted we must conform.
When we allow others to dictate our pace and our path, we buy into the lie that a well-trodden road is the only way forward.
One area in which I have greatly struggled with this is in saying ‘no’. I tend to feel that my ‘no’ is not enough, and that it requires detailed explanation. I would therefore complicate my ‘no’. I would agonise about the reason behind my ‘no’. Not necessarily the real reason… I had to find the ‘right’ reason. The reason that sounded the best to the recipient.
But the thing is, there is no ‘right’ reason. When I started getting honest with myself about what I wanted and what I didn’t, my ‘no’ became clear. When my ‘no’ was delivered with kind authority, it brought peace. The more peace I encountered through my ‘no’, the less it mattered what others thought. And, finally, the less it mattered what others thought about my ‘no’, the less validation I needed.
The less explanation I crafted.
The less excuses I made.
The less complicated it became.
That honesty with myself brought a level of simplicity to my emotional response.
We all have our struggles with this kind of honesty with ourselves. For some, it’s because of family expectations and obligations. For others, it’s professional validation. For others still, it’s a by-product of not taking the time to examine our hearts and to discover with acceptance and grace what we value most – what we really want to pursue – but for fear.
What if we examined our hearts honestly?
What if we simplified our response and focused not on the ‘right’ answer, but on the ‘real’ answer?
What if we realised that another word for honesty is courage?
Courage to step into the life we want.
Courage to speak our heart.
Courage to be gentle with ourselves and with others.
Courage to simplify our response.
Courage to simply be.
Brilliant! This fully resonates . Absolutely, the times that I have lied about something absolutely come from a place of fear. From the constricted heart that doesn’t want to hurt someone or is too fearful of rejection to be honest. Thank you for putting this in such eloquent words!
Thank you, Heather. “The constricted heart”…perfectly phrased!
My dear Angelina,
Your impressive observations are all the more relevant because they serve to validate the powerful advice by William Shakespeare in his great Tragedy, “Macbeth”:
“Above all, to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night, the day,
thou canst not then be false to any man.”
Uncle Edward
“To thine own self be true”…simple yet profound advice that we would all be well served to follow.
When saying “no” to an invitation I have learned to simply say, “I have other plans.” It doesn’t matter if that plan is to stay home and read a novel.
A plan to stay home is still a plan 🙂
Lying to ourselves is called Cognitive Dissonance…
This is when we tell a lie and feel uncomfortable about it because we fundamentally see ourselves as an honest person, our inner conflict is called cognitive dissonance.
This is caused by the mental discord related to the contradiction between one thought (in this case, knowing we are lying) while at the same time thinking (and convincing ourselves that we are being honest).
Leon Festinger (1957) proposed cognitive dissonance theory, which states that a powerful motive to maintain cognitive consistency can give rise to irrational and sometimes maladaptive behavior.
Festinger’s (1957) cognitive dissonance theory suggests that we have an inner drive to hold all of our attitudes and beliefs in harmony and avoid disharmony (or dissonance).
Thus we deliver an attractive facade to the outside world while simultaneously avoiding looking at the shambles within us that we hope and pray will never be exposed.
Few in this world have the courage to overcome this compulsive “ostrich syndrome”
and thus as Oliver Wendell Holmes said: “Most people go to their graves with their music still inside them…”
May we all learn to face our fears and share our music wholeheartedly, armed with the knowledge that the world needs our symphony.
Once again you have nailed this. I do have tons of trouble saying no, fear of disappointing folks. I’m such a people pleaser or at least I think I am.
A key point for me was to realise that by avoiding disappointing others, I was likely disappointing myself. We can’t always say no, but we have to find that balance over time.
Thank you for this, it provides confidence to be able to say no, without the long, drawn out explanation as to why. I do tend to feel as though I have to justify why I’m saying no.
Me too, but little by little we can learn to own our ‘no’.