I have made many mistakes in my life and you’re not the least bit surprised by that admission.
Some of those errors had minor ramifications, while others had larger consequences. There were always, to my dismay, results that I didn’t want to face.
When I was a kid, maybe eight or so, I told what my folks would have called a doozy of a lie. At eight, you’re surely old enough to know better than to tell a big fib, yet often lack the judgment to stop yourself from making the bad choice to do so. In this instance, a cousin had a two wheeler for sale and I wanted it. It was green, which is still my favorite color, maybe that had something to do with my determination to get what I wanted. Although the conversation at the supper table one summer evening is a little vague, it went along the lines of this:
Me: I talked to cousin about his bicycle.
Dad: Did you? What did he say?
Me: He said I could have it.
Dad: Really?
Me: Yes. (Not looking him in the eye.)
Dad: Really?
Me: Yes. (Squirming in my seat.)
Dad: Really?
Me: No, I didn’t talk to him.
Dad: Uh huh, I didn’t think so.
That was about it. There was no paddling, no berating, no big discussion. I knew by Dad’s tone of voice and look on his face that I had messed up by lying. I never willingly and intentionally lied to Dad again. Except about Christmas presents. The outcome of my lie to Dad was his disappointment in me. Because of my deep admiration and respect for him, I knew that to lie again meant losing his joy. That was a steep cost and one I chose not to bear again.
Growing Up We Learned What Consequences Were
As tykes, Dad cultivated a stern look that could freeze not just us, but every cousin and neighborhood kid. Dad was darned scary. He stared you straight no matter what you were up to or how bold of a kid you were. The trickster—Dad’s true underlying spirit was one of joy and laughter. The fact that us munchkins could drive him to be somber must have been tough on him. It was a job he took on and he taught us big lessons by acting the part.
Mom’s threat of crossing her with bold-face lies was to yank The Paddle from the drawer and brandish it. I have zero memory of this piece of wood being used on my behind. Mom guaranteed me that I got whacked more than the three other kids combined. Here’s my two-cents if you don’t believe in smacking little kids on a well-padded rear—we erase the memory. Let me be clear—this is a gentle paddling, this is not abuse. This is discipline that leaves no lasting impact. By ages eight or ten, Mom reaching for the paddle made us stop whatever we were intending to do.
Consequences for not Holding Kids Accountable
I’m not a parent. This aunt was lucky enough to live around her rambunctious niece and nephew during their most formative years. From when they were six and three, I was there for a decade. I witnessed the ages and stages kids go through where lying is a perfectly natural part of who they are. My niece had an Evil Twin she blamed for her bad behavior. That was better than pointing the finger at her little brother. It also provided us with great humor. Eventually, she realized we weren’t accepting the third-unknown-to-us kid explanation. My niece learned to take responsibility for her words and actions.
Lying, in the end, doesn’t get you anywhere except unable to look at yourself in the mirror each day.
Parents, I get how you teach kid not to lie. They’re easy. You show them consequences of what they say or what they do. As they grow, the lessons become verbal and involve tougher, more complicated illustrations. The trick to raising valued adults with internal guideposts and strong ethics is teaching them through their teens, their life.
If children don’t learn words and actions have ramifications attached to them, what kind of adults do we turn into? Ones who speak without thought and act without regard for the impact of their behavior? How selfish, one-sided, and self-absorbed a person like that must be.
When we’re on the receiving end of deceitful actions, lied to as an adult, by an adult, what happens to that relationship? How do we react when confronted with someone’s blatant lie? The game changes from when we’re toddlers where kids will simply blurt out what’s on their mind or take back what’s been taken.
Is it us?
If you have realized you were lying, were you shocked when it hit you? What were the consequences of your lie? How did you go about regaining the other person’s trust? There is an excessive amount of work involved in rebuilding damaged trust. If you value them, you have to work to build and repair the relationship. Hopefully you’ll get to where the trust is deeper and more profound than what you started with. I’d like to think that’s possible.
It begins in our childhoods with how we’re treated as tiny ones, through our adolescence and teen years as we become young adults. But only—only—if we have people around us who are interested in teaching the lessons of consequences so we know the repercussions of our behavior. Without that how can we suffer through the results of what we do? Can we move beyond the actions, the outcome, and come out the other side being better human beings?
I’d like to think that’s possible, don’t you?
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I agree that lying doesn’t get you anywhere. People who lie a lot are often just fooling themselves. I do believe it is possible to rebuild trust in a strong relationship after a lie (assuming lying wasn’t habitual), but it isn’t easy and takes time and effort.
Yes, spot on, Donna. It takes a lot to build trust in the first place, but it may very much take twice the effort to rebuild it.
I find myself relating to the post. And agreeing with many of the comments. Particularly the finding hard to excuse adult liars and just hanging around then less and less. Trust is big factor in friendships, so you certainly don’t want to hang around liars. It would take a long time to build that back up.
You’re right, Susan. I think we should give each other the benefit of the doubt, but when it is clear that someone lied for selfish reasons, that’s time for me to re-think the friendship. There are so many good people in the world we can choose to be with.
I felt your pain just reading the conversation about the bike! Lying is one of those very gray subjects because it takes so many different forms from lying to protect someone’s feelings to lying to cover your own ass. I definitely believe in giving people a second chance, but I also believe in that old saying, “Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.”
Shame for sure with the bike, Marty! Lucky for me that Dad handled it just right.
You are SO right for the adage…don’t get fooled twice!
I used to have friends that lied about things. Some lies were big while others were small. After a while you get tired of hearing stories, so I slowly started hanging with them less and less.
It’s a good thing to purge those kind of folks, Jason. I’ll bet you replaced them with much better friends.
I think one of the most difficult lies to get past is when someone cheats on a spouse. That is a difficult breach of trust to get past.
My first memory of the concept of lying was when I was about 3 or 4. My mom had a friend come in from out of town who had a little girl about my age. I remember she got caught in a lie and got punished for it. And that scared me out of lying for quite a lie. Of course, we all eventually tell a few in our lifetime. My goal is to just make sure I don’t ever have to tell any big ones.
I can’t even imagine getting over that spousal lie, Erica. Marriage is hard enough!
Wonder how that little girl did with the rest of her lives. And you’re right, we all do from time to time for this purpose or that. I used to tell whopper lies that could have been true. When I reached the age of figuring that out, I decided the whopper lies were a lot of fun, so I still tell them. That’s when I would have said, I did that ten times (when really it was twice), now I might say, I’ve done that a zillion times! That way the person knows I’m exaggerating for the fun of the story.
Rose, you are so right about adults lying to you. I had an employee who I caught in a lie and believe me, after that I always questioned if what she said was true or not. While she was a capable worker, the working relationship was never the same afterwards.
That destroyed co-worker relationship is a big one, Lenie. You spend such a huge amount of time with each other that to lose trust is a very bad thing. Been there, experienced that, too. Not good.
It may be harder to confront an adult liar, but it is also much harder to excuse one.
Well said, Ken.
It is very hard to lose trust in someone….it’s kind of like a little death and it’s very painful. If no effort is put forth by the person who lied how can the relationship ever go back to where it was? How can you look at that person and believe anything that comes from their lips? When there is no remorse, no apology….. It’s just not okay in my book to go along like nothing has happened. It’s a game changer and the relationship cannot be the same.
Oh Seester, you are so right about that. Remorse, sincere apologies…those things are vital for the relationship to recover.
I think we can all relate to this post. We’ve all been there, as children and at least once as adults where the consequences of a lie meant a lot of shame, guilt and ponderings of how to right the wrong. And as an adult, it’s much harder to rebuild trust that has been lost due to the stupidity that takes over and causes the lie to come to life, but I do believe it is possible with a lot of effort. And as an adult, the lessons we learn from losing someones trust are everlasting and make us never want to put that or any other relationship in harms way again with something as stupid as a lie. Love that photo of you with your mom and dad.
I just read Ken’s, Jackie’s, and Maureen’s comments and you are all three so spot on with what you’re saying! Yes, Maureen, we have to learn from it and find the right, ethical and moral ways to move forward.
Those folks of mine were something, eh? As are yours. Gosh I loved seeing them last summer–even got a hug from your mom. 🙂
I could certainly relate to much of this post. My father’s disappointment was more scathing than any spanking. And lies… well, I have a thing about liars. The fact is, owning up to something is far less painful than carrying the burden of a lie. My father always told me “Tell the truth…it’s the easiest thing to remember.”
Your Dad was right about that. I have a hard time keeping white lies straight–you know, the ones surrounding surprise birthday presents, etc.!
If we can teach kids to accept that disappointing people they admire and look up to is a big deal, we stand a chance on them become good adults, eh? Whew. I think I need Jeri to fix that sentence!