The Lies We Know

Lies are a part of life. Whether you use the practice of lying as a primary survival tool for yourself, or you just know people who do, lies are part of life. Some lies are told to cover over mistakes that one fears will be a dealbreaker. Other lies are created in an attempt to get away with something.

These lies are morally questionable, but they make rational sense.

 “Did you take the money?”

“No.”

It's easy to understand the point and effect of that lie. But not all lies, maybe not even most lies, are so linear in their cause and effect. If someone tells you they stopped and got gas on the way to your house when they know that they got it the night before, does it make a difference?

Yes. 100% yes.

A person who tells lies to get sex, drugs, money, or to curry favor with those from whom they seek approval; these are not safe people, but we know what their bottom line is.

The person who tells you they ate turkey for lunch when really they had pizza is a more troubling and complicated kind of lying. These lies create a disturbance in the environment between the teller of the lie and the beholder. The most accomplished liars lie about everything all the time because it keeps the people around them in a disoriented state. No matter how seemingly harmless a specific untruth might appear, it all piles up over time. Habitual lying side steps human bonding to favor fomenting confusion that  the target might not feel until much later down the line in the relationship.

Another form of lying is traumatic lying, which generally involves impulsive storytelling that either accentuates belonging or abjection for someone who has experienced sufficient harm. While complicated, traumatic lying is less about being believed and more about expressing hurt or need, however counterproductive it might actually be socially. 

I knew a woman who lost someone she called her best friend to suicide. The woman asked if I would proofread the eulogy she had written. The entire piece was a story about the writer herself, which also happened to not be a true story. I cautioned her not to leave such a legacy for herself to face in the future, but the writer rolled her eyes and explained that a certain very famous author was going to be at the service. The writer of the eulogy did it; she told a whole cloth lie about herself to impress a perfect stranger rather than honor her best friend. People who lie about pointless things will lie right over your dead body.

If something feels off to you, it probably is. Unless you have a bent for paranoia, which is statistically less likely than you just knowing you are not being treated right, then follow your feelings.

Is she dressing like me?        Yes.

Is he telling that story like it’s his?      Yes.

Did they do a weird version of my idea?    Yes.

Did they plan their wedding on my birthday on purpose?     Yes.

Yes. Yes, they did.

PLEASE enjoy this printer-friendly mini-workbook for contemplating your own relationship to lies and lying.