The Feminine Urge to be Honest

There’s a kind of dishonesty that slips into everyday life. It’s not dramatic. It doesn’t look like betrayal.

It sounds like ‘I’m fine’ when you’re not.

It feels like pretending you don’t mind when you definitely do.

It looks like nodding along when your gut is telling you otherwise.

Most of the time, it’s wrapped in something softer – politeness, keeping the peace, or a fear of being misunderstood. But even when the intent is good, this kind of dishonesty pulls us further from ourselves.

Recently, I had to admit something I didn’t want to: I haven’t always been honest. And that was uncomfortable – mostly because I’d always associated honesty with goodness and lying with carelessness or cruelty. So, realising I could be both good and dishonest was jarring.

The lies I told weren’t malicious. I believed I was being kind – protecting people’s feelings. But really, often it was a way of protecting myself from confrontation or it simply felt ‘easier’ to lie.

I grew up believing that sparing someone’s feelings was more important than telling them the truth. But what I didn’t realise until recently is that even the smallest white lies chip away at our authenticity and our connection – with others, ourselves and arguably reality.

So, I made a quiet decision – to be honest, no more ‘protections’ or ‘soft lies’.  Just honesty. And here’s what I’ve learned since.

Honesty really is one of the foundations of relationships

Every time we soften a truth, say yes when we mean no, or go along with something that doesn’t feel right - we step away from ourselves, just slightly. It doesn’t seem like a big deal. But over time, it adds up.

We think we’re avoiding discomfort, but we’re actually avoiding connection.

Because when we lie, we’re not protecting someone from their reaction – we’re protecting a prediction. We pre-play the scene in our heads, imagine the fallout, and shape the truth accordingly. But that’s not reality. The only thing that’s real is the present. And how you feel in the present is the only thing you can fully know.

Someone I know tried to end their relationship – not because it wasn’t working, but because they were too scared to truly name what wasn’t. They were worried about damaging the person they cared about. So, they said, ‘we’re just too different.’

It felt easier, safer and even kinder. But it was a lie.

We’re often told ‘true love’ and criticism cannot co-exist. That if you really love someone, you won’t be bothered by the things they do. It is quite the opposite. You can completely adore someone and still find them frustrating. You can want to be close to someone and still need to say: ‘This isn’t okay with me.’

Telling the truth isn’t an act of rejection. It’s an act of care and it is a choice to include someone in your truth.

Even when it leads to conflict, or tears, or silence – it’s a move toward something real.

Not everyone will meet you there. Some people will not even get it. For their own reasons, they may shut down, lash out or distance themselves, no matter how clearly or kindly you speak. That’s okay too. Honesty isn’t just about being heard – it’s about being aligned. And sometimes that means accepting someone else’s limitations; then we can challenge ourselves to trust our truths and live by them.

Living from Anxiety or Intention?

In 2021, researchers Xuan Zhao and Nicholas Epley published a study on compliments. They found that people consistently underestimate how positively others will respond to them – which makes us less likely to say anything at all.

While, yes, this study is about compliments – it applies more broadly. It proves humans tend to assume the worst. We are biologically programmed to fear ‘danger’ to keep ourselves safe. We expect to be misunderstood, judged, or rejected – those are often our ‘dangers’.

To keep ourselves safe, we may stay quiet or say what we think the other person wants to hear. This survival mechanism can often fool us into abandoning our own needs to avoid the ‘danger’ of conflict or vulnerability that might result from disappointing someone else.

When you do this often enough, you start living a life that doesn’t reflect who you are – it reflects who you think you’re supposed to be. And eventually, that gap becomes hard to ignore.

You can see it in your relationships, your work, your choices, your communication style and your sense of self.

The quality of your connections will always mirror the quality of your honesty with yourself.

Honesty requires Boundaries – Not Oversharing

Being honest doesn’t mean sharing everything. You don’t owe anyone your entire story.

In fact, becoming more honest has made me more private. Not closed off – just more discerning. I’ve learned to spot the difference between honesty and exposure.

You start to get clear on what’s yours to protect and what’s worth opening up about. Boundaries are part of honesty. They help you stay aligned, not armoured.

It’s easy to talk about authenticity – until it means noticing where your values and choices don’t match. Like when you care about sustainability but buy avocados flown halfway around the world. It doesn’t make you a hypocrite. But it is worth noticing. You don’t need to live ‘perfectly’. Just live honestly.

When your internal world aligns with your external actions, everything starts to feel lighter. You stop trying to manage impressions and start focusing on what’s real. You get to choose where you pour your energy. So, pour it into the relationships and habits that support the real you – not the version crafted to keep the peace.

Ultimately, how honest you are has less to do with morality and more to do with self-acceptance. It’s about trust and being able to look at your life and know you haven’t shapeshifted to make it work. It does not mean getting it right all the time, it just means trying to stay close to what’s real.

Honesty is not a performance, it’s a habit. And when you live by it you end up building a life that feels authentic to you.