I’ve realized something lately.
There are people out there who would rather tell me bullshit than just be straight with me.
And I don’t get it.
I’m not your mother. I’m not here to scold you, punish you, or make you feel small for the choices you make. I’m your friend. You can tell me the truth. Even the messy, questionable, what-were-you-thinking kind of truth.
Will I be disappointed sometimes? Of course.
I’ll probably roll my eyes. I’ll probably call you out. I might even sit there wondering why you keep making the same decisions that clearly don’t work out for you.
But I can take disappointment.
What I can’t take is being lied to. Being fed half-truths. Being given a version of the story that’s been cleaned up just so you don’t have to deal with my reaction.
Because that’s not trust.
That’s management.
And I don’t need to be managed. I need you to be real.
I’d rather hear the truth straight, even if it’s frustrating, even if it makes me sigh, even if it makes me question your life choices for a second. At least it’s honest. At least it’s something we can actually talk about.
Because when you give me bullshit, you’re not protecting me. You’re just creating distance.
You’re deciding, for me, that I can’t handle the real version of you.
And that part is what doesn’t sit right.
Friendship, at least the kind I value, isn’t about always agreeing or always approving. It’s about being able to show up as you are, even when it’s not your best moment.
So be honest with me.
Tell me the truth, even if it’s messy, even if it’s inconvenient, even if it makes you look a little stupid for a second.
I can handle that.
What I can’t handle is pretending you think I’m someone who’d rather hear a lie than deal with reality.