I’ve preached the value of honesty time after time. Honesty wins. Honest builds foundation. Honesty creates connection. Honesty serves the wholehearted life.
But it sucks.
It’s uncomfortable. It’s awkward. It stings. It’s stirring. It’s way less tidy than a padded social media profile.
I preach it, yet (to be honest), I fail to be honest all the fu*king time. I pull away, I stay guarded, I smile, I pretend.
It’s never a bald-faced lie. It’s the evasion of tiny acts of courage, the shying away opportunities to lean into the discomfort, to release true feelings through the bottleneck.
When I fail to truly align my value of honesty with my actions (because actions are what matter), I miss out on integrity. And that also sucks. Not because I feel guilty, or because integrity is a glorious aim of nobility in and of itself, but because I miss out on the fresh, visceral, authoritative conviction that comes from saying what I think, from speaking the truth.
I give myself credit for the strides I’ve taken, for the wins I’ve chalked up. I know I’m not perfect and Rome wasn’t built in a day.
(So, I’m not beating myself up).
I’m striving for the good life, to fire on all cylinders, to thrive and resonate.
Because while honesty sucks, it’s always better on the other side.
