I am forever lying to myself. I lie when I say I’m fine. I lie when I say I am rested. I lie when I say I don’t miss you.
I lie when I say I’m not hungry. I lie when I say I’ve had enough. I lie when I say my money is right. I lie when I say I am content and have peace.
Can you see through what I say? Probably not. I’ve lied so much, I can’t tell fact from fiction. It’s my life I’m living but it feels as though I’m watching someone else. Someone unimportant in a big role on a bigger screen. Someone who isn’t me, but I get to control. Am I in control?
Freedom for me means nothing. I have it. Don’t I? I can do what I want. Make my own decisions. I am my own person, one tiny blot in the whole of humanity, but it’s my blot. My spot. I can do with it what I want.
I’m lying again.
So many expectations hang over my head. Have a life. Get a career. Have a husband who loves you and is faithful. Make sure he brings home the bacon. Ask him to cook it too. He should if he loves you. Have a house full of children. No house? Okay, then, just one or two. You’d be a great mother. You’d be a great everything and anything. You’re a little too heavy, though. Maybe you should lose some weight. Your hair is so frizzy. Is your job paying you enough? You’re worth so much more than what you do. That’s such a dead-end job. Apply here.
“Listen to me.”
“I know better than you.”
Of course you do. Of course, you know more than I. Oh, look. Another lie.
I know what’s good for me. I have my own experiences, lessons learned, battles fought. I know what my value is. I know what I’m ready for. Do I have it all figured out? No, but I know enough know I deserve to have input in my destiny. I have to carve out my own path, do I not?
I lie to myself daily. Not every smile is sincere. Which ones? You can’t tell because I don’t know. Smiling in spite of is a natural movement for me. Like breathing. I do it because my body knows it’s the right thing to do. My mind can’t always make up its mind, though.
I said it would catch up eventually, but I think I lied about that, too.
I know what I want, but I’m not good enough to get it. I know who I love, but I’m not good enough to be with him. I know the direction I need to take, but I’m not strong enough to walk it.
Perhaps I could ignore the truth about myself and move on…
…I am forever lying to myself.