Honest?

I used to lie. It just felt easier in the moment, and it often was. But lies compound. Your ego will tell you it’s too late to reveal the truth, the moments gone, but it’s always better to backtrack than continue walking that path. Humility is liberty. We all fuck up.

Furthermore, over time, you lose credibility. Suddenly, everything you say is interpreted dubiously. Each story is interrogated as if it were an extension of the truth. Even if you make a well-intentioned mistake, it’s presumed to be an exaggeration.

There was no grandiose error of judgement that taught me to be truthful. Slowly, I realised that being honest would ease many of my anxieties. Most of my worries were fantasies; I’d finish people’s sentences in my head, assuming they were about to out me. Despite my relaxed demeanour, I’d be scrambling around my mind, searching for an excuse or retort as to why I hadn’t revealed every element of the truth.

I’ve discovered that the path of least resistance doesn’t lead to an easy life. It’s cosmetic, a way to bypass your problems rather than deal with them directly.

Honesty isn’t straightforward; it’s often about accepting your imperfections and realising that trust is almost impossible to acquire once lost. Trust is instinctive. From the moment you meet someone, you get a sense of whether they’d be safe with sensitive information.

Act with integrity, and you’ll make yourself trustworthy, a confidant to be relied upon when others need you most. Not only will your perspective be valued, but you’ll find yourself confronting life’s issues more readily.