Truthful: Because Filters Are for Coffee
In some families, politeness is the rule. They’ll smile sweetly, tell you your casserole is “just delicious,” and gush that your new haircut makes you look so young. In our family? Not so much. We don’t do polite lies—we do truthful answers. Sometimes brutally so.
If I ask my sister, “Does this outfit look good on me?” I know I’m not getting a sugar-coated reply. If it makes me look like I’ve gained ten pounds, she’ll tell me. If my hairstyle is doing me no favors, she’ll announce it. And honestly, I’d rather hear her truthful opinion than a polite fib.
Mom is truthful with me about those things too, but let’s just say it doesn’t always land as gently. Lisa can tell me the exact same thing and it somehow feels supportive. When Mom says it… well, her truthful feedback can come across a bit harsh. (And yes, she knows this about herself!) But at the core, I know it’s still love—it’s just love without the frills.
That same truthful straightforwardness carried into bigger parts of life, too. It wasn’t just about clothes or hairstyles—it was about parenting, relationships, and the messy middle of everyday life. When my kids struggled in school, I didn’t put on a shiny front and pretend everything was perfect. I told my mom the truthful version—about the struggles, the frustrations, the parts I didn’t know how to handle. Other parents I knew would tell their families, “The kids are wonderful, everything’s going great!” But I leaned on my mom’s truthful advice, and in doing so, I learned I wasn’t alone. Her blunt honesty helped me figure out what to do, one problem at a time.
Looking back, that kind of truthful openness shaped how I see honesty today. It isn’t always easy. Sometimes it stings, sometimes it bruises, and sometimes it comes out a little too blunt. But it also builds trust. I may not always like the answer, but I can count on it being real. And in the long run, that’s a gift. Because at the end of the day, politeness fades, but being truthful sticks.
And let’s be real—if my butt does look big in these pants, I’d rather hear it from my sister than from a stranger in the Walmart checkout line.
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