Self Honesty

The Convenient Lie vs. The Inconvenient Truth

There’s a moment we all face at some point in our lives — that split second where we know the truth, feel the truth, and can almost hear it knocking inside us… yet we swallow it, push it aside, or cover it with something easier. Something softer. Something far more convenient.

A convenient lie.

Convenient lies are seductive. They shield us from discomfort, delay accountability, and let us stay exactly where we are. They keep the peace — temporarily. They protect our reputation — superficially. They protect our ego — momentarily. But they never move us forward.

The inconvenient truth, on the other hand, doesn’t care about comfort. It doesn’t soften its edges to make the landing easier. It shows up as it is — raw, revealing, and sometimes painful. But it is always the doorway to freedom.

And this is the paradox:
Lies keep us safe in the moment. Truth keeps us free in our lives.

Learning to choose the inconvenient truth over the convenient lie is one of the most defining acts of emotional maturity we will ever face.

Why We Choose the Convenient Lie

Let’s be honest — most lies don’t come from cruelty. They come from fear.

Fear of hurting someone.
Fear of looking bad.
Fear of disappointing others.
Fear of disappointing ourselves.
Fear of consequences.
Fear of change.

For years, I leaned on convenient lies because the truth felt overwhelming. It meant confronting who I had become. It meant taking responsibility. It meant letting go of people, habits, or patterns that once kept me afloat.

Convenient lies feel like cushions.
Inconvenient truths feel like cliffs.

But here’s the thing:
Cushions can suffocate you just as quickly as cliffs can scare you.

Convenient lies delay pain, but they guarantee suffering.

The High Cost of Avoiding the Truth

When you bend, blur, or bury the truth, you pay for it in ways you don’t always see right away.

The cost shows up later as:

  • anxiety you can’t explain
  • guilt that follows you into bed
  • shame that sticks to your skin
  • relationships built on uneven ground
  • resentment that grows each time you betray your own integrity
  • a life that doesn’t feel like yours

Convenient lies feel like relief… until they don’t.

Because every time you avoid the truth, you abandon a piece of yourself. And eventually, those pieces add up.

The Inconvenient Truth: A Pathway to Freedom

Telling the truth has consequences. That’s why it scares us.

But so does hiding it.

The difference is that truth gives you your life back.

The inconvenient truth does not destroy you — it reveals you. It strips away illusion, denial, fantasy, and projection. It brings you back into alignment with yourself. It allows you to grow.

It is inconvenient because it demands clarity, responsibility, ownership, and sometimes painful self-awareness. But it also gives you something no lie ever could:

Peace.

The kind of peace you don’t need to earn.
The kind of peace you don’t need to protect.
The kind of peace that only comes from living in integrity.

Truth Doesn’t Hurt as Much as Staying in What Isn’t True

We’ve all been taught that “the truth hurts.” But the truth doesn’t hurt nearly as much as living a lie — especially a lie you tell yourself.

The lie says: “If I tell the truth, I’ll lose them.”
The truth says: “If you have to lie to keep someone, you’ve already lost them.”

The lie says: “If I ignore it, it will go away.”
The truth says: “What you avoid controls you.”

The lie says: “It’s not the right time to face this.”
The truth says: “There is no right time — only now.”

Truth invites you into reality — and reality, even when painful, is where healing lives.

Being Honest With Yourself Is the Hardest Part

You cannot offer truth to others if you refuse to sit with it yourself.

Some of the hardest truths I’ve ever faced were not the conversations I had with other people — but the ones I had alone at night, staring at my reflection and realizing:

I had lied to myself about what I could handle.
I had lied to myself about who someone really was.
I had lied to myself about what I deserved.
I had lied to myself about my patterns and intentions.
I had lied to myself to stay comfortable.

Those truths were inconvenient.
They were painful.
But they were transformational.

Self-honesty is the birthplace of self-respect.

How to Choose Truth When the Lie Feels Easier

Here are practices that help you step into honesty with courage:

1. Sit with discomfort instead of escaping it.

Discomfort isn’t danger — it’s data.

2. Notice when you rationalize.

Any sentence that starts with “It’s no big deal” or “It doesn’t matter” is a clue.

3. Ask yourself: “What am I afraid will happen if I tell the truth?”

Your answer is where the work begins.

4. Practice micro-honesty.

Small truths make room for bigger ones.

5. Let go of outcomes.

Your job is to tell the truth — not control what happens after.

Truth is not the burden.
Carrying the lie is.

Choosing Truth Is Choosing Yourself

At the end of the day, choosing the inconvenient truth means choosing yourself — your integrity, your peace, your inner alignment.

When you tell the truth, you stop betraying yourself for temporary comfort.

You start building a life that can actually hold you.

A life that doesn’t require performance, pretending, or self-betrayal.

A life rooted in the most powerful thing of all:

Authenticity.

And that, SLAYER, is where your freedom lives.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Where in your life are you choosing convenience over truth?
  2. What are you afraid will happen if you tell the truth — and is that fear rooted in reality?
  3. What truth have you been avoiding that feels heavy in your body?
  4. How has hiding the truth kept you stuck or small?
  5. What would choosing truth make possible for you?
  • S – See where you’ve been hiding behind convenience
  • L – Let truth guide your healing, even when it’s hard
  • A – Accept discomfort as part of growth
  • Y – Yield to honesty and reclaim your peace

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What inconvenient truth did you finally face — and how did it change your life?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in a convenient lie, send this to them.
Sometimes, the truth someone’s avoiding is the truth they most need to hear.

Self-Honesty

If we want to grow—really grow—there’s one non-negotiable step we can’t skip: self-honesty.
Not filtered. Not justified. Not softened for comfort. Just the raw, unfiltered truth.

For a long time, I didn’t even realize I wasn’t being honest with myself. I had an explanation for everything—why I did what I did, why it wasn’t my fault, and why I was still the one who got hurt. I wasn’t lying, I told myself—I was surviving. I genuinely believed that. I wasn’t aware of how deep my self-deception ran.

But here’s the thing about dishonesty: even when we fool others, we can never fully fool ourselves. Deep down, we know. And that knowing creates pain—a pain that grows louder the longer we run from it.

When the Lies Catch Up

Looking back, I realize how much effort it took to keep up the act. I was always spinning, justifying, defending, and denying. I wasn’t just lying to others—I was lying to myself. And even though I appeared to have control, my life was unraveling beneath the surface.

I had a story for everything, and in most versions, I was the victim. It worked—until it didn’t. Eventually, the weight of my own dishonesty caught up with me. I felt like I was being swallowed by guilt and shame, and I had to numb myself just to function.

But that small, persistent voice—the one that wouldn’t stay quiet—kept whispering the truth: You know better. You were meant for more than this.
And as much as I tried to silence that voice, it was the only part of me still fighting for the life I deserved.

The Moment That Changed Everything

The turning point came when I couldn’t run anymore. I hit a wall—a moment where the lies I’d told myself stopped working.

I was tired. I was broken. And for the first time, I was honest.

Not just with others, but with myself.

I admitted everything. The damage I’d caused. The pain I’d tried to outrun. The truth I’d buried under ego and fear. I reached out to the people I’d hurt. I owned my choices. And I made a plan to get help.

It wasn’t easy. But it was freeing.

Because the moment I took responsibility was the moment I took my power back.

The Truth Will Set You Free (But First, It’ll Break You Open)

Self-honesty is messy. It means looking at the parts of yourself you’ve tried to ignore. It means taking off the mask and seeing who’s really underneath.

And for many of us, it means accepting that we were the ones standing in our own way. That we made choices that hurt not just others, but ourselves.

But that’s also where freedom begins.

Once I saw how much of my pain was self-inflicted, I realized something powerful: If I created this mess, I can also create something better.

That truth was hard to swallow, but it was also hopeful. Because it meant I didn’t have to wait for anyone else to change. It was up to me. I had the power to break the cycle—and build something real in its place.

Self-Honesty is Self-Love in Action

We talk a lot about self-love. But the most loving thing we can do for ourselves is tell the truth—even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

Self-honesty isn’t about beating ourselves up. It’s about calling ourselves in, not calling ourselves out. It’s saying, “I know you made choices you’re not proud of. But you don’t have to keep living that story. You can change.”

And that’s what I did. I took ownership. I made amends. I learned from my mistakes. And I committed to a new way of living—one built on truth, not performance.

Was it easy? No.
Was it worth it? Absolutely.

You Can’t Heal What You Won’t Face

If something in your life isn’t working, ask yourself this:
Am I being honest about what’s really going on?

Not just honest with others. Honest with yourself.

Because if we want to live a life that feels good, not just good enough, we have to face the hard truths. We have to stop spinning stories and start taking responsibility.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s humbling. But it’s also the beginning of real change.

The life you want? It starts with telling the truth. To yourself. For yourself.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

  • S: Where in your life have you been avoiding the truth?

  • L: What patterns or habits have you justified, even when you knew they were harmful?

  • A: What’s one honest conversation you need to have—with yourself or someone else?

  • Y: What would living in full self-honesty look like for you, and what would it free you to become?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where has self-honesty transformed your life—or where do you feel called to be more honest today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to face the truth, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Sometimes You Face Difficulties Because You’re Doing Something Right

There’s a belief many of us carry without ever questioning it:
If things feel hard, we must be doing something wrong.

So when resistance shows up — discomfort, fear, pushback, uncertainty — we assume it’s a sign to turn around. To retreat. To go back to what’s familiar.

But sometimes, the opposite is true.

Sometimes you face difficulties not because you’re off track — but because you’re finally on the right one.

Especially when you’re choosing something new. Something honest. Something that honors who you actually are instead of who you’ve always been expected to be.

Familiar Paths Feel Easier Because They’re Familiar Not Because They’re Right

We are creatures of habit.

We do what we’ve been taught.
What we’ve seen modeled.
What feels easiest in the moment.

Even when those patterns don’t serve us, they feel safe because they’re known.

But “easy” doesn’t always mean aligned.
And “comfortable” doesn’t always mean healthy.

Sometimes the path that looks smooth is the one leading you further away from yourself. And the path that feels difficult is the one asking you to grow into someone new.

New choices almost always come with new discomfort — not because they’re wrong, but because they’re unfamiliar.

The Cost of Taking the Easier Softer Route

For a long time, I chose what felt easier on the surface.

I avoided conflict.
I tried to minimize attention.
I looked for solutions that required the least resistance.

But those choices didn’t bring peace — they brought consequences.

I didn’t get what I needed.
And when I did, it often came through manipulation, avoidance, or dishonesty with myself. I ended up doing far more emotional labor trying to maintain something that never truly fit.

What I thought was “keeping the peace” was actually betraying myself.

And over time, that betrayal showed up as anxiety, resentment, and exhaustion.

People Pleasing Is a Survival Strategy Not a Solution

Many of us learn early on that being agreeable feels safer than being honest.

So we prioritize other people’s comfort.
We swallow our needs.
We tell ourselves it’s not worth the trouble.

But unspoken needs don’t disappear — they turn inward.

They become anger.
They become sadness.
They become numbness.

And eventually, the weight of living out of alignment becomes unbearable.

That’s often the moment when people turn to outside fixes — anything to quiet the voice inside that says, This isn’t right.

I did too.

I tried to numb myself.
To silence the discomfort.
To convince myself I could stay somewhere I didn’t belong.

But I couldn’t — because I wasn’t supposed to be there.

The Truth Always Finds You

We can hide from the truth for a while — sometimes even for years.

But deep down, we always know when we’re not living authentically. When we’re shrinking. When we’re dimming ourselves to fit into spaces that don’t allow us to grow.

And when we finally start making decisions that honor our truth — maybe for the first time — the difficulties that arise can feel overwhelming.

But those difficulties aren’t punishments.

They’re signs that you’re walking where you’ve never walked before.

New Difficulties Mean New Growth

The challenges that show up when you choose yourself feel hard because they’re unfamiliar — not because they’re wrong.

They require courage instead of compliance.
Honesty instead of avoidance.
Boundaries instead of people pleasing.

But here’s what matters:
These difficulties are far healthier than the ones you lived with while betraying yourself.

Fear shows up when we’re letting go of old versions of ourselves.
Uncertainty shows up when we’re stepping into something real.

That doesn’t mean stop.

It means keep going.

Doing the Right Thing Doesn’t Mean Everyone Will Understand

Choosing what’s right for you doesn’t mean you don’t care about others. It means you care enough about your life to live it truthfully.

If you’ve chosen the right people, they’ll want the best for you — even when it’s uncomfortable. They may walk beside you through the difficulty.

And if they don’t — that tells you something too.

Sometimes growth requires moving forward without everyone coming along.
Or continuing relationships in a different way.

That isn’t cruelty.
It’s clarity.

Only You Can Walk the Path That’s Meant for You

Only you know what’s right for your life.
Only you can do the work to build it.
Only you can walk through the fear that stands between where you are and where you’re meant to be.

Difficulties don’t always mean danger.
Sometimes they mean direction.

So suit up, SLAYER.
Step onto the path that asks more of you — because it gives more back.

You’re not alone.
Plenty of us are walking beside you.
And we’re cheering you on.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Where in your life are you choosing what’s familiar instead of what’s true?
L: When have you ignored your needs to avoid discomfort or conflict?
A: What difficulty might actually be a sign that you’re on the right path?
Y: What would honoring yourself look like today — even if it feels uncomfortable?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where have you faced difficulty because you were finally doing something right?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s questioning their path because it feels hard, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

We’re Only As Sick As Our Secrets

For a long time, my entire life was a secret.

I hid what I was thinking.
I hid what I was doing.
I hid how I was really feeling.

I carried shame, confusion, and anger quietly, convincing myself that keeping everything inside was somehow safer than letting anyone see the truth. I believed secrecy gave me control.

Instead, it made me sick.

Very sick.

And the hardest truth to accept was this:
I was the one holding myself there.

The Illusion of Control That Secrets Create

When we keep secrets, it often feels like protection.

We tell ourselves we’re avoiding judgment.
We think we’re sparing others.
We believe silence keeps us in control.

But secrets don’t protect us — they isolate us.

They keep us from asking for help.
They keep us from being known.
They keep us trapped in our own minds.

I believed that if no one knew, I could manage it on my own. But what I was really doing was cutting myself off from the very things that could have helped me heal.

The Moment the Truth Lost Its Power

Everything changed the first time I asked for help.

The first time I said out loud what I had been hiding.

That’s when I heard a phrase that landed like a weight in my chest:

“You’re only as sick as your secrets.”

It was devastating — and freeing — all at once.

Because suddenly, I could see how much suffering I had endured not because of what I’d done, but because I refused to speak it. The moment I shared my truth, it lost its grip on me.

There was nothing left to hide.

And in that openness, I found freedom.

Shame Thrives in Silence

Secrets feed shame.

They whisper that we are bad people.
That we’re unlovable.
That no one would understand.

But shame lies.

There is nothing you’ve done that someone else hasn’t already done, felt, or survived. We like to believe our pain makes us uniquely broken — but the truth is, our experiences connect us far more than they separate us.

When we share our truth, what we usually meet is not punishment — but understanding. Compassion. Connection.

And sometimes, in telling our story, we give someone else permission to tell theirs.

Why I’m Not Afraid to Share My Story

People often ask me if I’m afraid to share my truth publicly.

Do I worry about judgment?
Do I fear what people might think?

And the answer is no.

Because the people who matter most in my life already know my story — the broad strokes, the truth of where I’ve been and who I am now. I told them years ago, and in doing so, I was released from the bondage of my past.

I own my story.
I own my choices.
And I also know I am no longer that person.

There is power in that clarity — far more power than silence ever gave me.

Secrecy Makes Us Vulnerable Honesty Makes Us Safe

The kind of “power” secrets give us is false.

It feels like control, but it actually leaves us exposed — to ourselves, to our darkness, and sometimes to people who would exploit what we hide.

Honesty removes that leverage.

When you are open, there is nothing to hold over you. No threat. No fear of being found out. You get to stand in truth instead of hiding behind it.

And that truth doesn’t just heal you — it protects you.

Sharing Your Truth Builds Real Connection

Being honest about where we’ve come from allows people to understand us more fully.

It deepens relationships.
It opens communication.
It builds trust.

Sometimes it also keeps us physically or emotionally safe — especially when others need to understand our boundaries, our triggers, or the reasons we must protect ourselves from certain people or situations.

Your truth gives context to your needs.

And context invites compassion.

Freedom Lives on the Other Side of Secrecy

At the end of the day, you hold the key to your freedom.

Keeping secrets you believe are “unshareable” doesn’t protect you — it imprisons you. It keeps you from intimacy, from support, and from fully living your life.

You don’t have to tell everyone everything.
But you do need to tell someone.

Because secrecy keeps pain alive — and truth allows it to heal.

You are only as sick as your secrets.

Don’t let them own you.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Are there parts of your life or past you’ve never shared with anyone?
L: What fears keep you holding those secrets?
A: What do you believe would happen if you spoke your truth out loud?
Y: How might your life change if you chose honesty over hiding?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever experienced freedom after sharing something you thought you had to hide?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s carrying secrets that are weighing them down, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.