Liar, Liar

 From now on, there must be no more lies.

Speak the truth to one another…

Ephesians 4:25 [New Jerusalem Bible]

It would be easy for me to blog about lying, coming from the august circle of those who wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing.  But that in itself would be a lie, for the truth is that I have struggled with lying my entire life.  I will make no excuses – but I will share a portion of my battles with this insidious side of deceit.

I was raised by a very difficult woman who could be quite cruel if displeased.  I remember as a child being forthcoming with the truth, i.e., generally telling it, straight forward, whether it would please the hearer or not.  My mother was often not pleased.  I noticed that my brother often prevaricated:  he would say “yes” when he meant “no,” and mother never seemed to be the wiser.  I decided to join his side of the family, telling her what she wanted to hear, not necessarily the truth.

Even though I am somewhat of a public figure, I have always been painfully shy and unsure of myself.  I do not make friends easily, being the introvert that I am.  When I started school, I was lost in a mass of children, all of whom were brighter, smarter or prettier than I was.  In order to bring some little bit of attention to myself, I added exaggeration to my “tell a lie when necessary” skills.  If Suzie had run a mile, I had run a mile and a half.  If Jerry got to stay up till 9:00pm to watch a movie, I didn’t go to bed until 10:30pm and watched two shows [fat chance of that!].  If  Mary’s mom paid $10 for her new dress, my mom paid $20 – an exaggeration and a lie because my mother made all my clothes.  The truth was never enough, because the truth was boring, underachieving, dismissive.  In my own eyes, I was vanilla in a sea of chocolate, and I desperately wanted to at least be mocha.  By the time I reached my teens, there was almost nothing that came out of my mouth regarding my life that wasn’t fudged one way or the other, always to make myself seem a little more special than the truth would allow.

I knew, by my later teen years, that I had a problem with exaggeration.  There were times when I really tried to quit fabricating a wonderful life.  By then, however, it was thoroughly ingrained in me, and inevitably I would slip back into my old habits.  Sometimes I would try to convince myself that I wasn’t really lying – I was only “helping the truth.”  Even I didn’t fall for that one.

A half truth is a whole lie. 

~Yiddish Proverb