Matters of trust: Why we lie, what we gain and who gets hurt

So, here in Kansas City, there's a radio station that does a little bit every Wednesday morning that by design lights the fuse of exploding relationships. In "War of the Roses," a suspicious partner in a relationship has the opportunity to either expose their significant other as a loyal and faithful partner, or a adulterous cad. It's usually a woman trying to expose a man as one or the other. The female DJ poses as a florist offering free roses to be delivered to the person of the suspect's choice. If they choose the person asking for this service, that person's fears are "put to rest;" if they choose someone else, that nagging suspicion is confirmed.

I don't catch this little bit very often, but every time I do, the result is the same--I end up clenching my teeth and wincing with agony over how it usually plays out. And regardless of whether the suspicious partner is right or wrong, the lack of trust displays the cracks in the relationship's foundation, and the likelihood that these folks are in deep trouble whether someone is cheating or not.

Lying and mistrust hurt people. Sometimes the truth is harsh, but at least at its core, it's not multiple layers of pain--it's mostly black and white. Being truthful with someone is a little like peeling off a Band-aid, it definitely doesn't feel good, but if it's done directly enough, everyone can move on.

There are lots of opportunities in life that teach us who to trust, or whether we feel it's safe to trust anyone at all. This is true in our personal and our professional lives. The resulting feelings are the same, no matter where these opportunities play out.

A veterinarian I used to work with always said that I would make an excellent diplomat. Most of the time, I took that as a compliment. Working through problems and complaints can be challenging, and in turn very rewarding. But when I think about some of the times I have smoothed things over with people over the years, I often felt like I was doing some version of a handstand, while trying to eat corn on the cob. You really have to think about what you're doing.

Diplomacy is a careful balance between negotiation and ego stroking. One aspect requires honesty, the other aspect often requires a little "embellishment." I don't want to call it out and out lying, but let's be honest, sometimes, we don't fulfill the expectations we have set with the people we make promises to, and there is no valid reason we can give that the other person will accept.

And so, we work to divert their attention away from their disappointment. We stretch the boundaries of the situation to fit into a reality the other person can better live with. In our personal lives, we do it with family, spouses and friends all the time. We do it with well-meaning intent, most of the time. But the reality is that we also do it to save ourselves grief over situations that we really don't care about in the first place. In our professional lives, we do it to stay in the game and to stay "alive."

In work, we frequently are met with challenges that we are either able to meet, or that we are not. Our success and failure depends on our ability to finesse situations and provide desired outcomes. We have to sometimes mesh with people who seem to be covered in barbed wire, and we have to be able to protect ourselves and each other from damage and financial loss. In some work environments, strategizing is almost militaristic, so it's only natural that one of the methods employed ends up being "diplomacy." Careful, strategic stretching of the truth and circumstances, along with honest negotiation hopefully leads to an outcome that both parties can accept and move on from.

An ornamental structure--not the castle battlement it appears to be.

In our personal lives, wouldn't it be nice if we could take a break from the "war?" The constant intense feeling that we need to defend ourselves from the feelings of others is exhausting. The reason we land ourselves in uncomfortable situations with family and friends is because we want to avoid our own discomfort. Whether it comes from proving ourselves to be jerks in the face of others, or whether we just don't want to deal with the fallout of the other person getting upset, it's still our own discomfort we care most about. If we could avoid the entire situation completely, we often would.

That's the problem with lying, or entering into an agreement we don't fully commit to in the first place. As in the radio program "War of the Roses," it may be a blatant lie about why you were coming out of a neighbor lady's house at five o'clock in the morning. But most of the time, it's less so. It's things like letting people think you care about them, their situations, or their requests of you when you really don't. Eventually, no matter how much you try to massage it away, the truth of the situation is going to eventually wake everyone up in the middle of the night like a massive leg cramp. It's going to hurt someone.

Now, obviously, some of those "massages" are more dramatic than others. If you explain to your spouse that you didn't transfer a load of laundry from the washer to the dryer because you forgot, when really you just got distracted by other things you preferred to be doing, they're probably going to be irritated, but they're not likely to feel lied to and hurt about it. Those aren't the breaches in trust I think we need to be concerned about.

We need to choose our battles, and our diplomatic opportunities more wisely and efficiently. When we find out someone we've really cared about doesn't care as much about us, but is just being polite, does the politeness really make us feel any better about the situation? When the truth is revealed about the situation, it calls into question everything else we thought we knew or that we wanted to believe.

Sometimes those revelations are a window into ourselves and our own insecurities, and we need to look at ourselves and ask tough questions. Sometimes we need to understand shared, versus disinterested levels of commitment in relationships and what opportunities that inequity may point us to. Sometimes we choose to believe the lie, even if we suspect something else is true, because we want to believe something better about the person being dishonest with us.

But sometimes these "windows" into what's real are a revelation about the people behind the curtains in our lives. When we care about our own comfort more than we care about the pain we cause when the truth of the matter is revealed, the explosion of emotion is probably greater than if we had just been up front in the first place.

Whenever possible, just rip off the Band-aid. It will save everyone in the end.

Love the Way You Lie--Skylar Grey

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