We need an honesty movement, a campaign to resurrect truth — truth gasping its last, faltering breaths. By truth, I don’t mean the typical connotations of honesty in spoken word and am not alluding to the lack of it in political discourse. What I am appealing to is the dishonesty we live — the dishonesty we proclaim when we don’t follow our own path, instead treading the one designed by social pressure or unwillingness to live boldly.
We live in an era of meticulously crafted identities that are presented on social media, of carefully chosen self portraits with the perfect filters applied — a face shown to obscure lives often riddled with uncertainty and fear. We crave authenticity in others yet live inauthentic lives — lives scripted by social expectations. This fearful dance is exhausting, an endless loop of deferment to the oppressive burden of other’s opinions. They dance to the music we’ve fearfully selected while we sway to their timid symphony.
It’s the most deafening silence, the silence of a life unlived. We poetically declare the value of freedom , yet our lives are often in chains — the links forged out of fear, indecision, and need for acceptance. Our families are affected by our dishonest silence, our friendships weakened — the world untouched by our potential.
We have one life to live and love freely. We have one life to unapologetically declare our truth to the world, to allow our radiant, glimmering light to expose the dark corners and empower others to do the same. It IS terrifying, the thought of shaking off the shackles of protective identity — but it may be the most liberating thing we ever do. There is an undeniable comfort in blending in, of holding tightly to the status quo — of pretending. But the life we’ve been given demands more. It demands our discomfort, it demands our unwavering voice; it demands our unflinching vision, unmoved by the seductive whisper of indifference.
The reality is there’s an honesty movement already underway, obscured by the tireless onslaught of bright lights and materialistic ideals. To this movement, I add my inexact words — and commitment to peel back my protective layers, to forge a path, and to stumble forward. Our steps may be unsure and faltering, but together we can commit to authentic lives — lives that resist the appeal of apathetic compliance and comfortable disengagement.