Lying

I recently read a book about lying. It’s called Lying by Sam Harris. The writer argues that there is never any need to lie, even those polite little ones you say just make sure you don’t send someone into a body-image tailspin or some other kind of fruitless discontentment. As a generally kind person, I wouldn't lie to you but I’d also wholeheartedly withhold the truth if it was the kind of truth that would be unconstructive to it's given audience. 
"You know Zoe, you can choose your self-worth yourself. It really is that simple."
"But like, do you think guys will think I'm worth talking to if I wear this dress?"
In this case you just say, "sure" and move on. I can't speak for every guy.

Moreover, do you know how many pity-dates I went on because I didn’t have the heart to discourage some sweet fella who worked up the nerve to ask me out? That could be damaging to his confidence. So I’d go on the date just for them to use it as practice. In case you’re worried, I have plenty of self-respect and had no trouble turning down creeps and bros and strangers. It was the shy, kindhearted fellas I didn’t want to spend time with that I couldn’t let down. 

Sam Harris would probably think I’m an idiot. I also feel I have more bones to pick on account of being a lady that was brought up in The South. Politeness is one of our most abundant natural resources and even when it’s not genuine, it never runs dry. I’m sure the I’m doing great!’s that I get when I ask someone how they’re doing, is not the whole truth and I appreciate them for withholding it from me. Is there anything worse than a passing stranger that responds to you with their woes? The awkwardness consumes me. I would lie about my feelings if it meant not putting someone in that position. So you see, I lie to benefit others. It's selflessness.
I feel I should acknowledge that my thoughts here change on a case by case basis and in the case of chatting with someone I know well and/or love, I really do want to know how they're doing. I'm not a monster.

The Lying book came around because Brett has a solid “no lying” stance in life and he tries hard to be polite about his honesty. He picked up the book for fun and read most of it out loud one afternoon on the back deck and once he dozed off, I finished it.

I’d like to point out that I don’t believe one should be trigger-happy with the white lies for the sake of avoiding all confrontations. I believe in doing your best to communicate genuinely and when you do that, you shouldn’t need to lie. Sam Harris would say that you can simply opt out of sharing your thoughts if you think they will upset a person and I do that awfully often. I call it “evasive conversation” and I'm very good at it. The ways I can skirt around an answer is otherworldly. I’ve even had people complain about and praise me for my skills there, I’m that good!

If I don’t like someone’s haircut, I’ll tell them they look “fresh” or “dapper” or some other thing besides, “I like it!”

If I hate something a bride suggests, I say, “That makes sense. Suppose we did this though…” It’s actually quite easy to not lie even when you’re secretly a disagreeable, opinionated jerk.

Afternoon deck-nap coming in T-minus six minutes.

While I don't have the active thought of “don’t lie” when I'm in an icky situation, I am quite aware of responding to someone thoughtfully and gently and with the awareness of us both being humans. I’m happy to point out my mustache to a friend asking if I see a hair on their lip. 
“Oh you know, I do see a lil sprout. It’s got nothing on my Selleck-stach. You know what I do to eradicate those…?

I'm happy to throw myself under the bus so that people have some company up under there. Other benefits to being caught being honest even when it’s icky, is that people will trust that you are being honest with them also and in some ways, that makes your thoughts more valuable to your friends.

All that said, I can think of many instances where I’d prefer to be lied to. 
-If we’re running late to a party and we're riding along in the car and I say, “Hey Brett, can you see my slip under this?” I need him to say no for two reasons. 1) Punctuality is more important to me than the peeking hem of slip. 2) I get to enjoy the outing instead of worrying and fidgeting with my mismatched hemlines.  
-If in a few weeks I’m scheduled for a painful surgery, I need the doctor to assure me that it won’t be painful or else I’ll expire of agonizing anticipatory anxiety well before my surgery date. 
-If I’m an old widow with Alzheimer’s and everyday I ask where Brett is and everyday finding out that he died 10 years ago breaks my little heart and ruins my day, I'd much rather you tell me he’s out in the garage.