The One Lie I Just Can't Fess Up To

Do you enjoy reading? Do you like to win free books and hear from your favorite authors? Then join our very special Girlfriend Book Club today!


Honesty is not optional. Tell the truth, even when it’s really, really, hard.

I speak these words to my kids often. I preach honesty, but I don’t always practice it. I’ve been living a lie, friends, and it feels awful.

It started as a lie of omission: When I started dating a man for the first time since my divorce, I made a conscious decision not to tell my kids. What I do when they’re at their dad’s house is not their business, I thought. I’m an adult and I have the right to a private life. My lie felt like a boundary, an intention. I was not dating to get married or find a stepdad or a partner to move in with. I was dating for fun — to see if I was ready to dip my toe in the relationship pool.

He was kind, mysterious, brilliant and, like me, was in no rush to put a ring on it. A beautiful friendship formed, and I had no reason to tell my kids. This is just for fun, I told myself. My kids don’t need to meet him, so why should I tell them? Before I knew it, a year had passed, and I was still “sneaking off” to visit my boyfriend. Our relationship became more serious than I had anticipated, but still, I hesitated to tell my kids. So, the lies continued.

“I am going out with Stacey tonight,” I would tell my kids so they wouldn’t wonder where I was if I didn’t answer a text or call. On weekends, I’d sneak off with my secret boyfriend and say, “I’ll be out of town. I’ve got another work conference.” I’d lie about who sent me those beautiful flowers and where I got my new pair of sneakers.

Four years later, I am still juggling a secret boyfriend and life as a mom with three teenagers.

I started lying to protect my kids. I didn’t want them to think I was trying to replace their dad or that they had to compete with a man for my love. I wanted to protect myself, too. Fear told me that if I introduced them too soon, my kids would push me away. What if he was Mr. Wrong and left me heartbroken? Would my kids view me as a failure? How would my ex-husband react to the news of my new beau? Fear paralyzed me. I wanted to neatly compartmentalize my life and I never wanted my two worlds to collide. Lying gave me some sense of control. It removed the fear. And it was easy at first.

But it isn’t easy anymore. How can four years of lies be justified? What am I teaching my kids? My lies are hurting everyone and I finally see it. They are hurting me, too, because I am constantly nervous and feel guilty trying to balance two lives that have yet to coexist. It’s hurting my boyfriend because I am often on edge, trying to hide him, and I can’t help but wonder if that makes him feel like he isn’t good enough. And even though they don’t know it, my lies are hurting my kids. They pick up on my energy when I lie — the nerves and the apprehension, the lack of being fully present — they know I am “off,” but have no idea why. Who knows, maybe I am cheating us all out of the best-case scenario? Maybe my kids will be happy for me? Maybe I can have it all? Maybe fear is the only real liar in this situation.

My lies have to stop, Girlfriends, I know that.

I want this to be over, but I don’t know how or when to do it. Maybe I don’t need a plan or a script. Maybe all I need is a commitment to not lie just for today — 24 hours, zero lies. Rinse. Wash. Repeat. I’m not sure when or how that will help me reveal my secret. Maybe the kids will ask where I’m going one day, and I’ll simply say, “I am going out with my friend Darin,” and the conversation will flow, and the truth will organically be revealed while the weight of my lies falls gracefully off my shoulders. Or maybe I will fumble over my words and say the wrong thing, and the kids will hate me for a day or a week or longer and then, after a little bit of discomfort, the weight of my lies will slowly release itself from my shoulders and my children and I will heal and forgive and love.

Honesty isn’t optional. When I speak these words to my kids, I want them to know that all they have to do is be honest. They don’t have to have it all figured out. Two words. It’s as simple as that: be honest.

It’s time to practice what I preach, Girlfriends — even though it’s really, really hard.

 
Do you always tell the truth to your kids? What do you think of this woman's situation? Let us know in the comments below.