The Uncomfortable Truths

As friends, as family members, as lovers, we all desire one simple thing from those whom we care about:


This is a concept that, although alien to some, is to others a firm ethic by which to live their life.

Truth is the golden rule.

But because we have been told from a young age that to be truthful is the best and the right thing to be, we are not prepared when we are suddenly faced with the dilemma of whether or not it will hurt the one we tell it to.

What do we do if the truth will only cause unnecessary pain? Do we speak it and seek to help those it wounds in the aftermath? Or do we hold our tongue and hope it’s never found out?

I suppose the real question I’m trying to ask here is: Is it ever ok to lie?

There are times when you find yourself the victim of what I call an uncomfortable truth. Facts come to light that until that moment you were unaware of and you find it difficult to know how to react. It can be upsetting; it can be unnerving; it can leave you questioning the reliability of whatever came before the revelation.

On one level you are glad you know. When all is said and done, the more honesty there is between people the closer they can become. You can either cut yourself off from the person, choosing to recreate yourself as an independent individual rooted in solid facts, OR you can choose to move on, forgive if possible and build on what you have. Whichever path you pick, you can progress to better things. You have been hurt, but you have learnt. You can become stronger by yourself or as a team and there is no denying that that is a beautiful achievement.

But on another level you wish you had never found out. There would be no change to what you may have initially considered perfection, no turbulent emotions or questions of trust. It has taken years of self discovery and challenge to reach the point you are already at and you are proud of who you are. Surrounded by people you love and can lean on, you are living in ignorant bliss. Who would choose pain and uprooting over happiness?

I don’t believe that there is a clear cut answer to any of these questions. Every person is different because every person loves differently. I cannot lay down a blanket rule on who can or should tell the truth. I cannot dictate how to react to a truth if it is presented to you.

All I can tell you is what I believe: TRUTH IS AN EXTENSION OF LOVE. Presenting even the ugliest parts of yourself to the ones you love is the strongest demonstration of trust. And without trust, how can you truly love?

This is only my opinion however. You can’t base the way you live on some other persons’ internet ramblings- that would be dishonest to yourself. But you can expand on the ramblings; you can probe your own feelings…

…and you can ask yourself:

What you would do?


The Last Silence

I have just finished reading a book called ‘Grievous Angel’ by Jane Hill. It follows the life and love of a woman betrayed by the one man she ever fell for, who, years later, goes in search for him, learning the hard way that every story has two sides to it.

It wasn’t, in my eyes particularly well written; it wasn’t at all unpredictable and yet I powered through all 391 pages in half a day. (It’s one for the poolside this holiday if you’re in need of some literary suggestions.) I for one devoured the book, oblivious to the real world waiting outside my room.

And I find myself now at a loss for what to do.

There are books out there that, despite their lack of subtlety, leave you reeling afterwards. The conclusion was by no means a shock to me and yet I sat in a still silence for almost an hour afterwards, not sure what to think or say, unwilling to break the web that I had spun around myself. There can be a delicacy to the atmosphere that a book leaves behind when it is closed for the final turning of a page. It’s as if the author is trying to tell you something, a deeper truth that goes beyond the facade of the plot he/she just dragged you through. And as I listened to the silence, one word formed on the edges of my brain:


It was, I think, the main drive throughout the book. Passion can lead us to the very extremes of what makes us who we are. It can be the spark of love that ignites in our soul and stays with us for all eternity or it can be the motive behind a brutal crime. It drives us to crave human company for alone we are reminded that we are just a shell in an empty house. It was certainly the incentive for the protagonist to fly around the world in search of the man she had loved for twenty years.

Is it passion, then, that lurks in our hearts and aids us in every action, every choice we make? Do we delude ourselves into thinking we are in love before we really feel it? Are the first tendrils of love simply a rollercoaster ride of joy that tricks us into thinking that this is ‘The One’?

I don’t know the answer for everyone. But for me, passion is essential to survival. It is the will to live and sometimes the desire to die. It may be the spark that reignites a lost love but it is also the flame that keeps it alive. It is what drives me to do the things I love in life and take pride in what I accomplish. I am who I am because I embrace passion.

Passion whispers to me in the last silence of a closed book.