Telling the Truth can be Exhausting

Telling the truth can be exhausting.

Not necessarily telling the truth, per se, but everything surrounding it.

Should I say anything?
Does me saying anything matter?
What if they don’t want to hear it?
Is this something I need to say, or something they need to hear?
Is this my opinion, or objectively true?
Is objectivity even real?
When’s the best time to say it?
Oh shit, was that too soon? Or too blunt?
Did I hurt their feelings? Because that’s not what I was tryna do.

Second guessing, building up the nerve, figuring out if telling the truth is necessary… only to put yourself in the position to:

be told you’re overreacting
be made out to be crazy,
be called shady,
have your truth assailed,
your motives questioned and
your virtues chalked up to every other circumstance—luck, looks, privilege, you name it— except you.

Is it any wonder people don’t speak truth more often?

By virtue of being open to critique, truth tellers open themselves up to as much unfounded criticism as well-meaning criticism… all while those who most need to be critiqued are let off the hook… because they stay quiet.

Keep your truth out of my way and I won’t tell you anything about yourself… but what I will do is try to shut up this other fool who had the nerve to say something that caused me to pause.

When we punish people for speaking truth,
all we’re doing is paying lip service to it.

Making someone out to be wrong because we’re uncomfortable with their truth is violent and disingenuous.
Our discomfort doesn’t make truth less true.
It says more about us than about whoever “made” us uncomfortable.

When speaking truth consistently puts us in the position to be called the bad guy, Is it any wonder people don’t speak truth more often?

Values-based living is swell and all, but so is belonging. For some of us, belonging is less exhausting than the truth.

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