It turns out this blog is kind of a confessional for me. I think that works for you and me, doesn’t it? Lying never pays. As an HG life coach, this is something we always try to teach.

I lied, and now I am going to share the fascinating results with you.

Now, please note that we argue with clients all the time about what constitutes lying, whether or not we are liars and if it is “really so bad.” We argue for the widest definition, one that includes outright lies, as well as omissions, avoided topics, hidden judgments, secrets, etc. We think everyone does it. We did it as kids, seemingly naturally to avoid getting in trouble, why would we stop now? We don’t, we just get more sophisticated and justified about it. It even can turn into a kind of do-gooding, supposedly saving others feelings. We don’t say lying is bad, in fact, it’s so “human” it’s laughable. But, we do ask our clients to deeply consider the impact, not just the guilt and unease, but the lack of intimacy that lying and hiding ensures. How can anyone ever love the “real you” if they don’t know the real you? Deep down you know this. Deep down you know the moments of greatest intimacy and connection with your friends, lovers, parents or kids was when some truth was revealed-a confession, an admission, a feeling that had been buried. And wow, doesn’t being heard and still loved, give you the best feeling ever!? And yes, sometimes the truth leads to fights, but we teach that those are the best kind of fights to have—fights worth having. Those are the fights you are meant to have to really connect and sort something out with another human being, and within yourself.

I could go on and on about the theories and methodologies surrounding lying and hiding and maybe I will in a future blog but I know you want to hear my story.

I have kids. I have friends with kids and friends without kids. It’s natural that when you are a young adult your “family” consists of your friends. Then people start marrying off. Where does that leave the singles? It can become awkward between the singles and the “marrieds”, each with their own agendas of what to do on weekend nights, and differing amounts of time they now have for each other. Enter kids, and it is all the more complicated. Now you are really in two different worlds, but you still love each other and love those qualities that made you friends to begin with but now you have totally different foci and even more limited time. And you aren’t necessarily discussing this dynamic openly in the limited time you do make for each other, are you?

With all this in mind I decided not to tell my friend Lucy that I was going to a party with my kids after a visit to her house. Why? Here was my reasoning: I wanted her to feel special-I rarely bring my kids to Brooklyn and I wanted her to think she was the reason (even though it was only partially true). I am calculating and the trip might not have been worthwhile for only one engagement (if you’ve taken toddlers on the subway you may have some sense of this) Also, I didn’t want her to feel left out of the picnic-party our mutual friend was having (with all/only parents and kids). Very good justifications for my omission right? I thought so, but because I live the way I do-teaching honesty for goodness sake- this had to backfire.

A few weeks later I was sending out a little update on me and my kids—it’s a letter chock full of all recent events, outings, developmental milestones, etc. that goes out to all my friends and family. I, of course, mentioned the kid-parent party. I remember thinking I should also mention the visit to Lucy’s in Brooklyn, since the kids really enjoyed hanging with her and her boyfriend in their new shared apartment and going to the playground. Lucy loves my kids, and although they don’t know her well, they are fond of her. Why didn’t that “experience” make my letter? Because then Lucy would know I lied about the party that came right after—I had to choose one or the other to tell about for the story to make sense. So I left Lucy out. But, get this, she noticed. And, because I have long requested honesty, she called me on it. She wrote how much she loved the letter, the girls, their antics, and “hey, I was a little hurt not to get a mention.”

Oh man, I should have detected a lie right away because I was soooo defensive. “Who does she think she is telling me what I should write in my letter? If she was closer with them, then maybe. When does she ever come to see them? I am not writing these letters for satisfying people’s ego needs etc.” See how I was willing to malign my friends’ character in my mind in honor of my lie. Oy! Thank goodness I know this pattern and I know how to stop it—look for the lie and the cover up. I found it pretty quickly and called to confess it all and apologize. Love and appreciation was restored on all sides.

Lucy and I marveled at the irony—trying to save her feelings of being left out left her feeling even more left out. Does lying ever pay? Beneath the surface was a great discovery—neither one of us was sure how to negotiate being friends now that I am married with kids and she isn’t (this was the REAL topic we were avoiding). Now that we are talking about it DIRECTLY and honestly, not only is that getting sorted out, but love and intimacy are back in our relationship like never before. And that is exactly what often happens when people figure out how to own and tell the truth. It’s so worth it.