Sometimes it feels like people say it because they think they’re supposed to.
You ever notice how, when you ask people their values, just about everyone says “honesty”?
It reminds me of the way most people say they enjoy “nature” or “hiking” when you ask them about their hobbies — like it’s the default right thing to say, even if they don’t particularly enjoy them. Usually, I think they just mean “I don’t like being cooped up indoors.”
I’m not trying to gatekeep a hobby. If you say you like hiking, who am I to deny you? I just mean to say: sometimes it feels like people say it because they think they’re supposed to.
I think the same thing applies to honesty. Most people say they value honesty and transparency; when really, they just mean “I don’t like being lied to.”
That’s fair. But I do wonder how much they really mean that. I wonder what “honesty” actually means to them.
What about every time they say, “I’m fine, how are you?” when they’re definitely not fine?
Or every “IDGAF,” when they indeed GAF?
I was thinking about this a lot the other night, while have dinner with my partner, Tom. We were having our quarterly relationship check in. (I wrote about this last week: once every three months, we make a reservation at a fancy restaurant, treat ourselves to a nice dinner, and check in with one another. We always start off with individual updates: How’s life feeling? What’s been on your mind lately? What stressors are you dealing with? Then, we move on to a structured set of questions about our relationship: things like, How’s our communication been? Is there anything you’ve wanted to say, but haven’t had the chance to? What have I done recently to make you feel loved? Again: if you don’t do this with your partner, I highly recommend it. Even the happiest of teams benefit from a retro — and what are you and your partner, if not a team?)
In this latest check-in, I asked about the pre-established rules of our communication. You see, back when Tom and I were just starting our relationship, we set a rule: complete honesty, always. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Absolute transparency. And we have, I’m proud to say, held to that rule with utmost conviction. There has never been a lie between us, ever. Not even little ones.
But here’s the thing: when we created this rule, we were still getting to know each other. Tom did not yet know of my…idiosyncrasies, shall we call them? He didn’t know about how territorial I get over my favorite dishware, or the emotional spikes I get after 10pm, or how much I need to talk through my feelings. I didn’t know about his strange eating habits, or how persnickety he can be, or the way his brain streamlines itself when he’s stressed.
Now, with a few years under our belts, I asked the question: “Do we still want 100% transparency?”
We talked about it, and the answer was ultimately yes. Our policy has led to a few uncomfortable conversations, sure — but it’s always worked for us.
I say again: we choose absolute transparency because it works for us. My compulsive need for authentic expression, and his unapologetic sense of self, demands it. His hatred of having to guess how I’m feeling, and my loathing of deception, require it. It’s not an objectively better way to be — but it is the best thing for us.
And so, this week, I ask of you:
What does honesty actually mean in your relationships? How do you define it, and how do you practice it? Where are its limitations, and are your relationship counterparts on the same page?
I look forward to you finding out :)