“Honestly? I think you’re being slutty and are probably going to end up with herpes.”
This is usually the kind of thought you think and never say out loud. But I said it, and surprisingly, my friend didn’t hang up on me. In fact, she thanked me for my honesty — then made me promise I’d never be that honest again.
This week, I was that honest again. After catching a glimpse of Esquire’s piece on the Radical Honesty movement, I decided to give it a try. Who else was going to be the human guinea pig? I wanted to find out exactly how dishonest I was on a daily basis, although I’m not sure I was ready for the answer.
I like to think that I’m generally a pretty honest person. I’m outspoken and ready to give my opinion on almost anything. But there’s a difference between giving an opinion and telling people exactly what you’re thinking. That’s the dangerous part: sometimes people really don’t want to know what you’re thinking. There were a couple of people in my life I wasn’t being completely honest with, for better or for worse. This was my opportunity to come clean.
I started the project a few minutes after midnight last Tuesday, and a couple of friends immediately decided to test my honesty to an extreme. They had been snooping my Google Chat, and after finding out about my little project they decided that they wanted to know everything about me — especially the really personal things I wasn’t apt to intentionally share. They asked awkward sexual questions, followed quickly by “Would you make out with anyone in this room?” I couldn’t lie; thus, there is now a large group of people who know much more about me than I ever planned.
Answering intensive, probing, personal questions is always a blast, but that’s not what this is about. It’s about telling someone when you don’t care about what they’re saying, when they’re bothering you or when you just don’t feel like seeing them. It seemed really offensive when I first read the premise, but it does seem to have a few redeeming qualities: You don’t waste time listening to stories that you don’t care about, but unfortunately you do hurt some feelings.
Brad Blanton created the Radical Honesty movement to enforce “the kind of authentic sharing that creates the possibility of love and intimacy.” The idea is that we all need to cut through the bullshit between us and be ourselves by helping people communicate about their thoughts, plans and feelings. Apparently this is supposed to make the world a better place, but I’m still skeptical about that part.
I felt pretty horrible when a good friend was complaining about a recent break-up and I had to respond, “That really sucks, but I have an econ midterm tomorrow and a ton of reading for history. Maybe we’ll talk later.” Hardly the sensitive friend I wanted to be. She looked hurt, and paid me back in kind the next week. I called her when I was dealing with all my boy drama, and she replied, “Yeah, I have two midterms. I really can’t talk.” Blunt, but I deserved it. Honesty begets honesty.
Of course, there are moments when you can finally revel in saying what you’re thinking. For me, that was chastising someone on Facebook for donating their status. My comment went something like this: “Donating your status is completely pointless and actually makes the situation worse. If you truly cared, you would try to heal divisions rather than just let some organization take over your status. It’s a completely socially legitimate way to be politically apathetic.”
Response: She changed her status to something not involving QassamCount.
By far the most awkward moments of the week were when I talked to my mother — something I do at least once a day.
“What did you do last night, honey?”
“It was Gone Greek Night, which gets a little crazy….”
She knows I’m in college and she understands the whole college scene, but we have a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it comes to partying, sex or anything else that a mother never wants to hear from her child. I’ll admit that I cheated a bit here. While I never flat out told a lie, I only gave her a rough outline of my activities. I’m still unsure if that counts as lying.
When I’m not concentrating on complete honesty, I actually lie a lot, without even realizing it. I tell a million little lies a day that I’ve never thought about:
“Yeah! We’ll totally hang out,” became “Sorry, I’m really busy, and I have more important things to do.”
“It’s no big deal, really,” turned into “Seriously? I’m pissed.”
I lie all the time, about pretty much everything. But once I undertook this experiment, I even told a professor the truth when he asked me if I was paying attention. Saying “No, I was really bored and checking my Gmail” will NOT score you points.
There is a time to lie, however. Unfortunately, I let loose a secret that ended up hurting someone I loved a lot. This is where Radical Honesty fails. If you know something that can only hurt, I can’t see how it’s beneficial to tell anyone, especially not someone you love.
The movement isn’t just about saying unwanted negative things, however. We’ve all had the urge to be kind to someone only to stop short because we’re probably going to look like a creeper. Sometimes remembering something funny that that cute guy in orgo said three weeks ago isn’t sketchy, it just means you’re considerate. And sometimes bringing someone dinner (even if it’s Easy Mac) when they have three midterms can mean the difference between mental breakdown and an A.
Be honest, but try to keep those things which damage your relationships to yourself. We all should learn to be honest about the important things in life: Tell people you love them (its a cliche for a reason) and don’t lie because you can. But don’t shoot your mouth off just to be a jackass.
Honesty is something that’s really hard to get right. Where exactly is the line between just enough and way too much? That’s something I think we all figure out on our own, depending on who we’re talking to. I’m going to tell my best friend more than my mom (because I’m sure she doesn’t want to know). Everybody has people they have to lie to (“Yes, professor, I really did do the reading”), but in the end more honesty would be beneficial for everyone.
While I plan on going back to my (now slightly less) dishonest, friendly self soon, the experience was worth it. I lie because I don’t want people to know what I’m thinking. Sometimes it’s offensive or rude or just plain inconsiderate. But it’s okay to think things like this… and it’s okay that society makes sure that we don’t say them out loud.