So on Saturday, I wrote about Kissing. Today, for “L” day, I shall write about a similar and related topic, but first, I’d like you to watch this video by the incomparable Brad Paisley from his 2003 album Mud on the Tires.

L is for Love and Lies

A lot of people would say that you should never ever ever lie, regardless of the circumstances, and that if you love someone, and even if you don’t, honesty is always the best policy.

However, I disagree with that sentiment, and agree with Brad’s philosophy (read the full lyrics to the song if’n you want):

‘Cause that’s love, you’ll see
We all commit a little bit of perjury
Ah but that’s no crime if you ask me, that’s love

Sometimes the truth can actually do more harm than good, whereas an omission thereof – or a “white lie” as some would call it – is the better way to go all around.

If your best friend’s newborn baby is just a tad homely, do you tell her so? No. You say that baby is precious, and sweet, and adorable, and look at that hair, and so on.

If your hubby is going on and on about parts for the AC or your car or his motorcycle, even tho you couldn’t care less, you feign interest and you listen because it’s important to him.

If someone asks you a question, you are under no obligation to give them the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Quite frankly, all that truth may very well be nobody’s business. Or it may cause hurt feelings; after all, if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.

My mother seems to think you should do all that truth-telling. A while back she told me that when my father was serving in the Army during the Vietnam war, he was stationed somewhere secret that only she, as his wife, could know at the time. But when people would ask “Is your husband in Vietnam?”, she’d hem and haw and get all flustered, causing further questions and embarrassment on her part. (Again, this is what she tells me; I was only around for part of that time, and I certainly don’t remember it.) It would have been far easier for her just to nod and move on.

I am, as y’all know, an artist. I have a very artistic and cluttered studio space (in part because the house we live in wasn’t built for someone like me, and what space I have is too small and has no closet).  My darling hubby told his sister – in my presence – that he doesn’t like my space because it looks like “art vomit”. Now. Is he allowed to think/feel that? Of course. Does it actually look like “art vomit”? Kinda, yeah… I have lots of books and magnets and art supplies and a bulletin board covered in photos (including one of him as a little boy) and cards and ribbon and drawings and silly pieces of art. Did him saying that hurt my feelings? As a matter of fact, yes. So, in this case, telling his true thoughts on the subject was actually hurtful. (And of course, I’ve forgiven him, cuz that’s what you do, and he didn’t mean it to cause me pain.) (And I just might start telling people that when they ask what I do… I’ll answer “I vomit art”. Hee hee.)

So again I say, from the Gospel of Brad Paisley:

You’re starin’ at a burnt steak
You bite the bullet and you clean your plate
And then you go on and on about how great it was
That’s not a lie, that’s love

dSavannah note: Please understand that I am in no way advocating building a relationship on actual dishonesty and full-blown lies and deception. That kind of relationship will never last; it will simply crumble into a pile of ashes. Again, I am simply saying we need to practice kindness, and sometimes that includes not sharing everything in our heads.

What do you think?