Recently I told a blatant lie to someone, and my Catholic roots got the best of me. I felt guilty, wretched, horrible, worthless, you name it.I don't even know why I lied. I could have told the truth, and it wouldn't have been a big deal. But somehow, I was caught on the spot and chose to flat out lie.
Honesty has always been huge with my family. My dad ingrained it in my sister and me, reminding us, "If you always tell the truth, you never have to remember what you said." Ahh, so wise, Dad.
My sister learned early on the negative effects of lying. When she was around 4 or 5, she lied to our dad and told him she'd eaten her whole dinner, when in fact, she had not. I think my dad was tipped off when he saw Robyn's empty plate and 2 huge chunks of hot dog on mine (well, you never know. I was quite the hefty 2 year old). She was swiftly punished and sent to the dungeon, I'm sure. (FYI - the "dungeon" was not actually a dungeon. It was code for our room. My dad was strict, but he wasn't medieval strict).
Robyn may have learned her lesson at 4, but that didn't stop us both from lying up the wazoo come high school. She lied about going to a party once, and I lied about going to work one time, when I'd actually called in sick and gone to my boyfriend's house. My dad caught us on both accounts. Hey, I worked at Denny's. Who wouldn't call in sick?
My biggest lesson in how destructive lying is came when I was a senior in high school. I basically two-timed my on-again-off-again boyfriend and a co-worker (I know, crazy right? I sound so pimp, but really it was too much work to be worth it). Oh, wow. There was a two-month period there where I became a lying master. I got away with it for awhile, but eventually both guys caught on. The ex came to my work and saw me with the other guy. Then the other guy randomly picked up this envelope of pictures at my house which had prom pictures of me and the ex. Yikes!
It was exhausting, to say the least. Even though I apologized and made it right with both of them later on, it still felt shitty lying all the time. I'd forget what I'd said I was doing. I feared someone contradicting my story. I looked over my shoulder out in public in case the other guy might see me with the other. I juggled both of them (for reasons beyond me), but in the end, it was too tiring for it to be worth all of that effort.
I haven't lied in a long time, so this most recent fib really made me disappointed in myself. Unfortunately I haven't confessed to this person, and I don't think I will. It's something that's going to pass anyway, and I'm making a promise here and now to never do this again. It made me feel so horrible that I actually considered going to my local church and confessing. Ha! Oh, the joys of being raised Catholic and honest.
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