Nothing makes me angrier in my personal life than dishonesty, because it is so very easy to lie to me.

I am, for better or worse, a very trusting person. My default state of mind is to think that people are telling me the truth, because in my mind there is no reason to lie to me. As far as I’m concerned there are few valid reasons to lie to anyone, save for something benevolent like a surprise party. But when dishonesty is employed it is rarely for benevolence.

I can track most of the worst experiences and emotional sledgehammers of my life back to someone having lied to me. From romantic partners of my past to social circles weaving deceptions to exclude or be rid of me, there has been no greater feeling of betrayal and sadness hasn’t been tied to blatant and malicious lies.

That feeling when the lie has been discovered is devastating. There is a death of trust and also a loss of memories; how things were and felt before the lie was revealed are forever gone, replaced by overwhelming feelings of anger at the deception and anger at oneself for “letting yourself be fooled.”

These days you will never see me propping up lies and deception as heroic behaviors in my work, even if the alluring term for characters like that is “a trickster.” It is also tiring to write the maintenance of a lie, and that is a subject I don’t find enjoyable to work on. The truth is harsh and messy, but at least it’s out in the open.

I take back what I said at the beginning of this blog. I used to be a very trusting person. After being lied to and hurt by deceptions over the years, I’ve become increasingly suspicious of those around me… further proof of the long-term damage that lying can do to a person.