If It’s Just As Easy to Tell the Truth, Why Do Adult Children of Alcoholics Lie?

For normal people, lying is about deceiving others.  Manipulaiton.  Control.  Sneakiness.  For us, people raised by alcoholic or otherwise addicted, narcissistic, or depressive parents–lying is rooted in fear. 

Our lying is based in a deep sense of uncertainty about what's acceptible, and our unconscious need to prevent abandonment (the abandonment of our earlier, child-age self).  We lie because we think it will keep us safe or at least safer-feeling, if only for a fleeting moment. 

Of course, our greatest injustice in lying is the injustice to ourselves — we suffer each time we bury our true, authentic selves, which occurs each time we lie. You can feel it happening when you do it–the layers of sand piling up on your eager, shiny true-self soul:  there's that little pinch in your gut, and a tiny but perceptible drop in your energy level, plus the unsteadiness of the calm from the moment before.  We become distracted when we lie, we pop out of the present moment. And when that happens, we're experiencing a moment a lot like those from childhood–where we're curled inside our shield, numb, waiting for the storm to blow over so that we can go back to daydreaming, magical thinking, and escaping reality again.  But that's no way to live now, as new adults.

We think we're keeping the boat even-keel, controlling the wake, by lying.  But, are we? Are we really that powerful?  

What Kind of Lies do We Tell? 

Acutally, it's less that we tell lies, it's more that we don't respond to questions with the truth. (I know that sounds like splitting hairs, or some kind of defense of lying–so let me explain.)  

We lie about what we truly want (we want what you want).   We tell people what we think they want to hear. We were raised to mirror the emotions that our troubled, needy, immature parents needed from us.  When they were struggling with insecurity, they couldn't bear to see us confident.  When they were angry and we were happy, they were unable to allow for both states and prioritized their mood above ours.  It's subtle stuff a lot of the time, which nobody on the outside really sees (and everyone on the inside denies is a reality). 

Many parents physically and emotionally neglected us until we were in a pathetic enough state for our parents to handle (i.e., not be threatened by).  In this way, too, they had power over our emotions–we weren't free to grow into our own unique, independent self.  Instead, we were emotionally glued to our parents.  The damage of this is largely invisible!  But, we deny our true feelings every day.  It's…familiar.  Since infancy, we have played to our parents' emotional preferences.  Is it any wonder that we do not have easy access to how we really feel, what we really want, who we truly are?  Is it any wonder that it's just plain easier to be what they want?   Is it any wonder that we'd lie?

We tell our spouse or boyfriend what we think they need to hear.  That is, we lie.  We let people do favors for us we don't want, say we don't need help when we do need help, talk to people we don't want to talk to or for longer than we'd like, eat foods we'd prefer not to, we see movies or TV shows we're not sure we really like, eat lunch too often with colleagues we don't click with, we go to events that bore us, and we travel to places we're not sure we're interested in seeing.  We devote a lot of our time and energy to other people, because we fear hurting them and we fear being abandoned on account of saying 'no,' but — is that real, or are we just reinacting old interactions?  (We're just reinacting old interactions.)

We also lie about what we can and cannot get done (we expect ourselves to do it all).  We try to stretch time to accomodate everything we think people need–or expect–us to get done.  But, it's unrealistic.  Still, we say, "Sure, I can pick up toilet paper and cat food and windshield wiper fluid.  (How am I going to run three separate errands to different parts of town?!)  Ya, sure!"  Yeah, right.  Then, of course, we feel crappy about how little we actually got done.  Except, usually we got a lot done.  This sets us up for failure–we end up over-promising and under-delivering.  We can be better adults than that.

We lie about our true opinions (we just hated your apple pie).  There are cultural influences you have to navigate when it comes to this kind of honesty, but it's important for us to buck social mores, and go for h-o-n-e-s-t (nice, but honest).  While he doesn't know it, my spouse has helped me with this one, because when he cooks, he wants to know my true opinion of the food.  (He would be irritated if I bullshitted him, saying, "Wow, yummy risotto.")  Now, I'm not brutal, but I've come a long way;  I've learned how to get honest through his desire for honesty.  I'll say, "I love this overall, especially the three types of mushrooms and I would eat it again–but it's too salty." (I'm a fan of the positive-negative-positive sandwich and its variations:  a nice comment followed by a negative comment followed by a nice comment.)  

Did you like the movie?  Even if your movie buddie loved the movie–be honest.  "I really didn't like it, it didn't make me laugh." You'll see that your friend STILL likes you, even if you didn't have the same experience in the movie.  (We are used to people subtly blaming us when they didn't like a movie–as if it were somehow our fault that the movie was bad. But, your new friends and the new families you've created–assuming they're healthy–are going to let you be you.)  So, say your truth.  If you're worried about seeming cruel, you can add, "But I loved seeing the movie with you."

Do you want to eat Indian food?  You know that the person you're with wants to (or you think you know this), but you really don't.  Say so!  "I know you want to get Indian, but I had a bad experience last time, and I'd prefer to eat–well, anything else." You can soften the message any way you like–but, be honest.   

We lie about how good our day is (better than yours).  How's your day?  When someone asks how we're doing, although we might be doing just great, if we pick up on their stress or their sadness, we are prone to adjusting our answer to fit their mood. "Oh, hanging in there," we say, as if we're feeling the weight of the world (not!)  That is, we lie.  In the past I've consciously excluded big, important, exciting life news when talking to people–concerned that somehow my good news would make the the other person feel bad about themselves (based on the dynamics of my childhood).   

We lie because we don't know if the truth is acceptable ('odd' is not an option).  We think we lie to spare people's feelings, but actually, we often lie because we don't know the truth is OK.  This kind of situation often also invokes our authority figure issues (gotta love inter-connected issues!)  It's OK to say we forgot, we didn't have time, that we made a mistake, that we were wrong, that we didn't want to, and what we dream of and hope to accomplish.

Let's say someone loaned you a CD to listen to, and you've had it for a whole month, but never got around to listening to it.  What do you say when this person asks, "What did you think of the CD? Aren't they a great band?" 

Do you lie, "Yeah, they're great!" because you think you should have listened to the CD by now, and are embarrassed that they were so generous and don't want to come off as ungreatful?

Do you lie, "I've only listened to it once, but they're good," becasue you're generally embarrassed but don't know why, and lie without even knowing why?

Do you lie, "Yes, love them — I've got to return that to you, sorry I've forgotten to," because you just don't want them to be hurt?

What's the truth?  Whatever it is — speak it. 

What CD?

I'm so glad you asked, because I forgot I had it and really wanted to listen to it.

I totally forgot I had your CD.  I don't think I'm going to listen to it, but you were really nice to loan it to me — let me return it to you tomorrow.

Wow, I can't believe I forgot all about that CD. (Then wait for a response.)

Would you believe I haven't listened to it yet?

Don't worry.  They won't judge you.  Be honest.

Growing Up into Your New Adulthood

Part of growing up is telling the truth about what we like, want, and need. 

When we stop lying about what we want, we discover that the bottom won't actually fall out.  What a feeling!  What a rebirth.  And, another benefit:  others get the pleasure of meeting the real, true you.  

Do what you want.  Say what you want.  Take the time to figure out the truth about you.

–ae