The truth doesn't cost anything, but a lie could cost you everything.
This old saying has resonated with me lately. I used to think hiding parts of the truth or omitting information wasn't a big deal. But I've realised that hiding the truth is still lying, plain and simple.
As author Elizabeth Jennings wisely put it, "Hiding the truth is still lying."
It's a subtle deception, even if not an outright fib. The brilliant psychologist Paul Ekman, who studied lying, clarified: "Lies can be verbal or nonverbal, kindhearted or self-serving, devious or bald-faced; they can be lies of omission or commission."
My hiding and concealing fall into the self-serving camp. I can't even really justify it to myself anymore. Sure, I've rationalised it as not wanting to hurt feelings or disappoint people.
I've feared the repercussions the whole truth could bring, and if I'm honest, I don't always want to make myself vulnerable by exposing everything.
The life coach Martha Beck summed it up perfectly: "Telling the truth, the whole truth, is profoundly scary."
Living any lie, even a subtle omission, erodes you a little. You have to contort yourself to maintain it, and it disconnects you from total authenticity. Rumi's words ring true: "Don't turn your head. Keep looking at the bandaged place. That's where the light enters you."
I'm realising that building a solid habit of truthful transparency, as terrifying as it can be, actually liberates us. As hard as it is, being authentic and vulnerable aligns you with integrity. It provides an enduring comfort that hiding never can.
I don't want to hide anymore. I commit to living the truth and being open and transparent, even when difficult. It's time to let the light in.