sssh_by_publiccenzor-d4aziuaI’ve travelled the world. I worship Madonna. I hate you.

There you go, I lied three times and I’ve written three sentences.

There are jobs out there that are designed to figure out the truth: doctors, judges and scientists, to name a few. But outside of the work place, how much truth can we really handle? And given the choice, do we want to know the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, all of the time?

Our biggest secret as human beings is that we even have secrets. We like to pretend that we are honest, up front about everything and have never told a lie. We aspire to be deemed, “really genuine” by everyone we meet and it’s our own job to persuade the world that we’re legitimate – a bit like a second hand car dealer selling a motor he knows is flawed – because if we don’t sell ourselves as the real deal, then who will want us? Trying to be the perfect human being is impossible, because we’re impossibly flawed. But we’re triers, us humans. And that is why we lie.

We try to fool our friends into thinking we’ve ditched the guy that’s bad for us, we hide things from our lovers for fear of losing them and we persuade children that there’s a tiny person who trades their molars for hard-earned fairy cash. But who do we think we’re actually kidding? As humans, we know a lie when we hear one, but we choose to ignore it most of the time because it’s easier, because it’s not worth the hassle, or because we knew it was a lie all along (and being British, we’ll do anything to avoid an awkward exchange).

So, armed with the knowledge that everybody does it, why does it hurt so bad when we find out that we have been deceived by someone we love? Before thinking about their good intentions and whether you really wanted to know or not, you feel disappointed, hurt and then a little bit silly. Then, if it’s really bad, you feel like you’ve acquired a brutal stab wound, a gun shot and a slap to the face all at the same time.

It’s not until you take a step back and think about similar lies that you have told that you realise that they might actually have been trying to protect you from pain as opposed to inflicting it. But the cliches we so often use – Ignorance is bliss. Curiosity killed the cat. Things better left unsaid –  all tell us to stop searching for truth, because knowing it all might actually lead to our downfall. I am in no way condoning the actions of a liar but am merely drawing attention to the fact that it’s as common as a roast on a Sunday.

Do I believe that it’s right to be honest? Of course I do. Have I shared all of my secrets? Hell no. There are some things that I’ll take to my grave. So how many cats should we let out of the bag? The truth is, I don’t know.

All you ever hear when talking about the perfect relationship is trust, trust and more trust. But can we actually really rely on anyone?

A friend of mine said you could only really count on your mum.

And even she told me Father Christmas was real…

Just use your instincts as best as possible I guess. Good luck!

The Cheater

It saddens me to admit that many of my beautiful girlfriends (and boyfriends) have been cheated on over the years. But it saddens me even moreso that the same thing happens time and time again. Someone finds out, tells the victim, we all get very angry and upset, humiliate the cheat, tell them how much we didn’t like their partner in the first place and then they’re normally back together a week later. The stress of looking someone in the eye after you’ve stripped them naked on Brighton Pier for sleeping with your best mate’s sister is second to none I tell you.

But with age, I’ve learnt that sometimes it’s best not to get involved. After all, do we even flinch when our bestie confides in us that they’ve cheated on their partner? I’ve even watched it happen and never uttered so much as a peep to their other half. If I’m honest, I didn’t even bat an eyelid. And that’s not because I think cheating is acceptable, I just see it as a warning sign that their relationship is (for want of a better phrase); ‘a little rocky’. Because that, for me, is exactly what cheating is. It’s a cry for help. A normally uncharacteristic act that oozes the sense that someone isn’t truly happy. A precursor to an already doomed relationship, if you will.

It must seem as though I sympathise with the cheaters of the world. In actual fact, I find cheating awful. But rarely do I think it is something executed to hurt your other half, which is why I think its best not to dwell on it if it was a onetime affair. Instead of beating yourself up about it and convincing yourself of being worthless and as unattractive as a splinter; take it on the chin and see it as a sort of indicator that the relationship is going down the road to nowhere. You’ve been given a chance to leave before things get really bad and being angry is not the answer. It’s merely a malfunction in your potentially endless dating life, so learn from it, don’t live with it, remind yourself why you’re so much better than the one that hurt you. And walk away.

And although cheating is inherently wrong, I haven’t quite worked out whether or not I agree that ‘Once a Cheater, Always a Cheater’. But just in case, be on your guard.

Don’t get me wrong, go out and find your wild cat, but never, ever entertain a cheater.