Sometimes, without meaning to, I say a white lie instead of the truth as an automatic response to a question. It’s not exactly something to be proud of, but it continues to happen even when there is really little difference between the consequences. For instance, when my friend asked me if my secret Santa was a girl and whether the bracelet I was making was for her, I automatically lied and said that it originally was supposed to be a bracelet, but I would have no problem changing its shape and make it appropriate for a guy. That was a blatant lie: if I wanted to make another pattern, I would have to take the whole thing apart. It didn’t matter if my friend knew who I got at that point: he had already guessed who his secret Santa was and was just curious.
So why did I lie? I automatically thought it was because I wanted to maintain an air of mystery. It was supposed to be kept secret, after all. But even I couldn’t believe the lie. If you don’t believe in the lie to some degree, it’s hard to convince others to believe it.
My next guess is presentation. Isn’t that why we all say we’ve “started” papers when all we’ve actually done is thought about the topic longer than a minute? We don’t want to appear as the worst student in the bunch, but then again we can’t set the expectations too high for what we’ve done. We just don’t want to appear last.
Of course, there are times when we’re truthful. If anyone had asked me why I hadn’t posted my blog sooner than now, I would have told them that I was unable to think of any topic. There was really nothing that came to mind until now. (This is not hypothetical, either. I did tell someone this dilemma of not knowing what to write.)
Was there a difference? In the first case, I attempted to keep an air of secrecy that has probably been destroyed by this point as everyone knows at least a few of the giver-receiver pairings. The second case makes me look kind of procrastinating and idiotic for still putting off something because I hadn’t managed to try to think of every possibility that could be done. Was it the friend that I was telling? The importance of the information? My emotion?
Most of it becomes how I want to present myself in that particular moment of time. The other person knows my situation through what I am telling them. They most likely don’t have any background information, and even if they did I have the ability as the “narrator” to twist the information. I want present myself as what I can with whatever I’m given. I provide the information. If you’re going to question the information, you’re still hesitant because I should know the “truth” of the matter the best. It involves me the most, so I should know the most.
So we shape our own reality by what we say. We want to present ourselves as something to the highest degree, even if it’s limited by other factors beyond our control. It affects self-esteem, if anything at all. And we all want to feel good about ourselves, right?
I've always wondered why I consistently lie about silly, inconsequential things. For example, every time I'm in bed and someone else is in the room, I pretend to be asleep, even if I've been awake for hours or if I woke up because they came in. This is true in my room here when I'm trying to nap and my roommate comes in, at home if one of my parents comes in to wake me up, or when I'm sleeping over on my friend's living room couch and her dad walks by. Perhaps I do this because I prefer not to talk to people in that moment, but I think it also has to do with a lingering feeling from my childhood that I'm supposed to be asleep, and that somehow I'll get in trouble if I'm not. I know this is irrational, but since there's no consequence to faking sleep, I continue the habit.
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