Truth. Honesty. Presenting the details of a situation or an event to another person or a group of people without any of the details being altered to suit the interests of the person narrating. We throw around the expression “Honesty is the best policy” when in fact we barely follow the definition of honesty in our daily lives. Unbiased opinion is rare to come by these days, we always present not the situation as it is, instead we present our version of the truth comfortably adulterated to show ourselves in a better light. As we try to communicate the incident to another, we slowly make the transition from stating facts to being excellent story tellers; sometimes to an extent when we ourselves are aware of the fact that we really have deviated from what actually is, the truth.
I would like to believe that the fear of confession buds from the fear of being denied. Most of the times, we find ourselves in tricky situations which we could walk away from if we were to come up with a creative lie. As children we sometimes were too innocent and naive to understand the magnitude and role of consequences in our lives. We often did what we wanted to in the moment, oblivious to the aftermath that could arise from our actions. From breaking the window glass, to spending all the money in the drawer to buy candy; we did things that made us happy. When caught, we push away the prospect of us being the suspect with so much of confidence and weave stories lest we don’t feel the wrath of the middle aged neighbor whose window we just shattered. We were sure we would be barred from playing outside for a considerable amount of time.
Fast forward to the next stage in our lives; energetic young teenagers. A time when grade sheets and report cards say so much to our parents by saying so little. Imagine being grounded because of alphabets on a sheet of paper. A time when we want to play and experiment all the time. When we are less aware of the perils of the real world of expectations and hardships. All we wanted to do was to play. All of us at some point in our lives have had to come up with an alternate truth to earn the little window of time we get to spend together with friends and enjoy playing with them. While timelines are different, the punishment if found guilty hasn’t aged at all. It’s just what you’re being denied of, be it something abstract or material.
Play time is over. You’re something of an adult teenager now. A phase when you are denied freedom because you are too young and overloaded with the heavy burdens of expectations to always do the right thing because you’re old enough to. Something of a paradox, that one. When we are at liberty to involve ourselves in activities that are generally considered positive influence on our academic and social perceptions, we find ourselves having to seek permission from our elders to do things that we can enjoy. The most absurd excuses and stories to cover up what actually happened. Conspiring with our friends to convince each other’s parents that we are indeed innocent kids bound by the circle of restrictions drawn around us. Be it an adventure trip to the mountains, or taking the person you love to a cafe or for a walk; At this stage we realize the value of freedom, as we try to fight the forces of denial valiantly, even if it means we need to carefully devise lies to go hand in hand with each other.
Years of practice of manipulating the truth, yet we really are terrible liars. Behind the veil of restrictions and rules, there was always someone who understood and cared for us on the other side. We were always caught when we lied, regardless of the response, as linear as it sounds; getting worse with the increasing age of the liar. I am thankful I was raised in an environment where I was informed of the aftermath of any of my actions before I indulged myself in it. My parents believed that if I still chose to be involved in these situations in spite of being well aware of the consequences, it could be because it was unavoidable. Trust can only be reciprocated by trust.
Sometimes denial can seem too cruel. While I did state the fear of confession is born from the fear of denial. We fail to realize denial is born from doubt. If we fail to develop the element of trust with those around us, we are forever plagued by denial. As we do things we are not expected to, as we promise to do something some way and take the opposite path without honoring our promises, the bond of trust is shattered into pieces that cannot be fixed easily. When the moment arises when those who seek a feeling of responsibility in us stop us from doing something, maybe we should just accept it. Trust is not something that’s developed in a day or a fortnight. It is slowly constructed brick by brick, each step reflecting on our actions and choices. With a good level of trust in each other, feelings of denial and doubt can be banished.
Today I am confident I can tell my parents what I want to do, where I want to go and who I want to go with. I was lucky I have been able to develop the feeling of trust within each other to an extent I believe they will never stand in the way between me and my happiness.
Be blunt. Maybe feel denied a few times. But a time will come when trust overcomes doubt.
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