The act of eventually telling the truth about something bad and shameful is an interesting bargain.
We willingly exchange the state of being a worse person who is seen as better one, for the state of being a better person, who is seen as a worse one.
That is, we go from being an immoral person whom everybody trusts, to a moral person who everybody condemns and scorns.
We downgrade our reputation and suffer social losses for the deeply soulful result of living in truth once again.
There is something about living a lie that is a bit like holding your breath underwater or going around caked in dirt no one else can see. It’s pure relief then, simply to breathe or finally get clean.
The outrage people feel, on learning they were lied to, is also interesting.
I want to clarify what harm was done.
A lie places the victim in a false location. They are lost but they don’t know it. The lie supplies them with a broken compass and a map of someplace they are not.
A lie steals their autonomy and volition to choose for themselves and assert their will. It prevents self-defense. A lie is a way to lead someone around on a leash.
A lie, when revealed, repudiates ALL those moments when it seemed… but only seemed, that we were loved. It retroactively pollutes and poisons them all, even the ones where maybe we actually were loved.
A lie exposed reveals our true value to the liar: Convenience, not treasure. An assistant, not a partner.
While the lie was believed, it gradually became the same thing as our life: A life now partially made of toxic, low grade materials.
It’s terrifying to consider.
They might as well have thrown us in a sack, driven us far away, and left us there, calling out to them in growing alarm.
