Honesty is the best policy. Yeah we have all heard it before, but my malleable adolescent brain must have absorbed that golden rule at a much higher capacity than others. Or perhaps it was my inclination towards bending the truth as a child, a punishable offense in my house, that branded it into my brain. At this point in my life honesty is almost a compulsion.
I tell the truth in every way possible. You know how omitting the truth, is just a different way of lying? Yeah that is what I mean. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I can't keep my opinion to myself. I give more information than necessary. If there is something on my mind you'll know it. Poker champion I will never be. Honestly, I even speak in an authoritative manner that makes my personal perspective sound like fact. I answer questions after these obligatory caveats
'Do you really want my honest opinion?' or 'This is going to sound horrible but...'
with complete and unsparing truth. Like I said it's a compulsion.
Of course my sharp tongue can lash with the best of them. I have hurt those close to me and while they say they love and accept me for my honesty, it still hurts to know I have hurt them. After all, you can only say you are sorry so many times before you've rendered the word completely and utterly useless. And forget first impressions. There is no recovering from being a bitch in front of or to a new acquaintance or complete stranger. You can't.
“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." That is so true Ms. Angelou. How do I know? Well because I have been on the receiving end too. At some point the tables always turn.
In this case I am referring to my feelings. I have a heart that is among the easier to bruise. I've let down and left my guard around my ankles many times for exploiters both hidden and obvious to take advantage of. The only thing that follows is disbelief, self doubt and deflation. It's hard to bounce back when you are only half full.
Any sense of empathy or imagination can see this makes for quite the precarious situation. It is as if I am always walking on a tightrope, balancing between violently active verbs and a hopelessly romantic heart. Both of which are inherent to who I am and have become. I watch my words fly like arrows, wishing I could swallow them the minute after I let them fly. I watch my heart fall harder, faster wishing it wasn't made of glass and I wasn't standing on concrete. And because at this point it has become habit, it is definitely a hard one to break.
A very good friend of mine recently told me that I have this crazy curious, doe-eyed naivete whose companion is solid, unfaltering conviction. No one has ever gotten it so dead on. I am so transparent in some situations, you can practically see through me. I am as opaque in others that you wouldn't even bother trying to argue with me. Quite the dichotomy. Definitely an internal struggle. After all, how do you change something that at 27 has become so much a part of you?
While I would never want to change completely, I know I could be honest with more grace. A lot more. I know I could be transparent and self-preserving at the same time. At least when I need to be.
I recognize these traits are assets in specific situations. I realize that for some they are honorable, they are envy inducing, they are even the correct way to respond. I don't necessarily disagree, but I have learned that honesty isn't always the best, especially when brutal. Truth will out the nasty as well as the good and it is easy to be overlooked when you're completely transparent.
