Liars

Constant Reader: Again, I write from a hospital bed. Again, I beg forgiveness for any errors, grotesque or otherwise.

This is a strange post. It's an exposé/confession/thank-you. It is not intended to offend—rather, its intention it to appreciate YOU. (It just takes a weird path to get there...)

We're all liars.

Every one of us.

Accept it.

I know it's hard for some, but deep down inside you know the essential truth: we all assume masks, play roles, tell tales...

Breathe. Accept. Swallow. Move on.

It's OK.



I'm about to violate an unspoken rule. I'm violating omerta. I'm pulling back the curtain for a few moments.

I do this not out of malice, but for Truth's sake.

It's a confession.

And a thank-you.


Here's the secret:

The brave talk is a lie.
The positivity...it's a lie.

It's not that it isn't true—every word I've written about this experience is true.

But it's a lie.

It's not Truth; it's not fully honest.

If it were, if I really was that brave, I wouldn't need to put it out there.

The man who has power need not tell you he has power. He simply is.

I am not.

Seeming strong is a way of keeping myself from completely unraveling.

Projected Strength = Protection

Projecting strength—seeming strong for others—is a source of strength.

We do things we know are right. We write words that inspire. We share—experiences, thoughts, dreams—and we expose ourselves.

We allow light to shine in our dark places.

And we do it when we can't, when we least can afford it. When it's desperately uncomfortable...


And that's the lie.

We seem strongest when we most need support.



Deep inside, Constant Reader, you already know it.

When we're tired, and scared, and hurting, and confused, and unprotected, THAT's when we project strength.

Because when we do, it reflects back on us with brilliance and warmth. We get Internet hugs. We get real hugs. We learn how many love us and care about us. We see that beneath the thin veneer of everyday, there's depth to the relationships we nourish. Friendships have substance. Family is real. We rediscover that the people in our lives possess rich and wide experiences and deep emotional reserves...and they want to share.

...all because we lied.


OK, we didn't lie. We meant those courageous words, but it wasn't Truth. It was a plea for help. It was...hopeful.



And that's OK.

Really, it's permitted.

It's expected.

It's All About You

You, plural. Not you, individual. Not me. The Universal "You".


We lie because of you. Maybe that's mis-worded. We lie because we can, because of you. Nope, not quite there yet...

See, it's a feedback loop—a wonderful, blessed, generous, resonant, and fulfilling feedback loop.

We project strength. You return it with rich positivity. We project continuing strength. You reinforce the positivity.

And so it continues...



We fake it till we make it.



You, interestingly, don't fake it.

We get stronger with each exchange.

You, interestingly, don't get weaker.

It's a kind of magic.


And that's why it's OK—it's all about...the best part of you.


Back to the confession...

If I seem strong, it's because of you.

I have strength. I'm a stubborn bastard. I know how to fight; it's my core.

But I cannot do this alone. What lurks beneath frightens me. I have memory rooms filled with real horrors and projected anxieties. Those paralyzing places are...right there. But I act brave, and you encourage me, and that lifts me away from those fears.

And at some point—some magical point, acting brave becomes bravery.

Acting strong becomes strength.



We're liars, but our intentions are good.

We assume the mask, pretending to be the person we wish to be.

And—willingly—you help us to become that person...that brave, strong warrior.

There's magic in Us.

So, in a way, we lie because of you.

Isn't it wonderful?



Thus, I end my confession. I am cleansed.

I'm not as strong as I seem. But I am willing to fake it, because I know at some point—with your help—it becomes real.

With your help.

And for that, I am grateful.