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June 10, 2004

no pinocchio for me

Unlike others, I have a tough time when I lie. I agonize over it, and worry. This is ironic because I grew up learning how to be a very effective liar.

When I was young, my mother was the very very overprotective hen. She watched over us kids like a hawk, questioning our every move, who we were with, where we were going, etc. I can appreciate this more now, but unfortunately, it fostered a very very bad habit--lying.

I was a wilful child. Others have even told me, in my adulthood, that they imagined me being so. I wanted my way and I had to have it. If I was told no, I would usually find some way to get it anyway. My sister was like this as well, but worse. The fundamental difference, however, is that I was adept at lying and she wasn't. By the time high school rolled around, Misty was always in trouble, with teachers, with boys, with grades, you name it. She became such a handful and I seemed more responsible. Key word--seemed.

But really, I was responsible...although my parents wouldn't have believed me. I didn't drink till I was in college. I never did drugs. I didn't smoke. I was a virgin till I was 18. I had straight A's (except algebra) but I looked like a freak. A waver/punk rock/Cure/Depeche Mode/wannabe sort of 80s batcave chick. This appearance is probably the ONLY reason I didn't get away with more in high school. They were just a little worried about me. But my career as a liar went into full swing.

I was never where I said I would be. If I was spending the night at Camille's I was probably at a party, or babysitting my friends dropping acid. If I was supposed to be staying with Traci, I was probably out clubbing till all hours of the night because she didn't have curfew. I never got caught. I always called at key times to reassure my mother. That was the ticket. Hearing my voice at midnight was enough. My sister? She missed those key calls...never occurred to her to VOLUNTARILY call. I called my mom all the time...she never had to ask me. And thus, she never had to worry.

And I became good at lying. As I moved on in life, in relationships, at work, where needed, I became even more adept...to get what I wanted, or thought that I wanted. I was not an honorable person.

The thing is, the other thing my mother instilled in me was guilt. Extreme guilt. Well, not as extreme as hers (it always baffles me when someone who fervently worships Jesus doesn't ever feel forgiven for their sins). We should have been Catholic. I always felt guilty when I lied. Terribly guilty.

Guilty enough that I pretty much washed my hands of it all four years ago. I flipped over that slate, deciding that I needed to live my life with honor. To be straight with the people in my life, regardless of the outcome. (Okay, we're not talking about common sense white lies...lying when you know it means nothing is one thing, like telling a child it was the best story you have ever read but of course it wasn't). I decided that if I needed to lie, there was something wrong with the situation and I should face up to it.

Recently I was faced with another dilemma...a situation that technically meant I needed to lie to preserve a particular appearance, because I wasn't ready for the situation to change just yet...it was a catch-22. If I lied, it was good for my future. If I didn't lie, it would be bad for my present, which in turn could mess up the future.

I agonized over this...trying to figure out the best, most believable lie. It was pretty pathetic. I had conversations with girlfriends and with Joe about the best lie I could tell. All the while I was agonizing over it, probably WAY more so than the situation even demanded. Probably no one would have cared if I had lied anyway. But still...I wanted to be true and I was trying to figure out how to reconcile that.

And miraculously, the answer came that helped me get out of that predicament. I was able to just be honest, because my situation had changed positively and I could tell the truth without negative consequence. I have to believe that my agonizing over it...that feeling it was a real moral dilemma, moved the universe to really help me out. I believe that to be so, that because I wanted to honor this base belief...to be honest and true to the best of my ability, is along the path I should be leading, and so the doors opened up.

Karma.

Posted by crystallyn at June 10, 2004 07:38 PM

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Comments

Posted by: Ancarett at June 10, 2004 06:21 PM

Posted by: Shanna at June 13, 2004 12:04 AM