I stretch up hoping to see the little bunny I’d stolen from the playground at school and taken home only to lose it in the wall.
“Where did the bunny come from?” my mother asks, holding the tiny gray fur ball in her arms.
I hadn’t seen it in months and I was wondering how it had survived so long in our house. Years later, I would make the connection that it was probably eating the dog food we left out. But we’re standing in the rain, my brothers and my parents, watching as my mom releases the little guy and he runs around the side of the house.
No one answers her. Dad just shrugs and starts back toward the house, grumbling something about the rain.
“It couldn’t have just slipped inside the door, we would’ve seen it,” she continues while I keep my mouth clamped down tight. “Do you remember seeing it anywhere, Amanda?”
I shake my head.
“It probably got in through the basement or something,” my dad finally says, “like a broken window or something.”
But we didn’t have any broken windows in the basement. Mom checked all of them.
This is a funny story, something to look back on and laugh about because I know when my older brother ratted me out for sneaking the bunny into the house only to lose it, my mom and dad thought it was too funny to be mad at me—granted, they found out it was me when I was a senior in high school—but more often than not the lies we tell our friends, our family and our significant others cause more damage than good.
I stop myself sometimes right before telling a lie, whether it was for a loved one’s benefit or my own benefit, but I realized that telling the truth is more beneficial than telling a little white lie. Most often we’re lying because of love, not out of malice or hate. And while for the moment it’s great to reassure friends about something or to make them feel better about themselves, why wouldn’t you just be honest upfront?
Sure, it might seem like a good idea at the time so no one gets their feelings hurt or maybe you were saving yourself the trouble of having to explain yourself. But when the truth really does come out and you have to explain all of that—including why you lied to begin with—it’s going to cost you more than just hurting someone’s feelings or a few minutes of your time. It could cost you a friendship, a relationship, a close family member. Is it really worth it?
The article “60% of People Can’t Go 10 Minutes Without Lying” by Kathy Benjamin states that 86 percent of people lie to their parents, while 75 percent lie to friends. That means that most of you reading this article have lied to your mom or dad about something. What was it? Was it a little white lie, or something much bigger? Why did you feel the need to lie? What’s worse is knowing that you’re on the other side of this statistic. That you are the one being lied to. And you may not even know it.
I’m not saying to never trust anyone ever again, but the next time you think about telling a fibber, maybe stop yourself and consider the consequences of lying to your parents or your friends. I know I’m not perfect, and I’m sure that in the span of writing this article I’ve told my fair share of lies. I know it’s our human nature to lie – especially to keep others from harm – but all these little lies we tell everyone else isn’t worth stressing over someone finding out about the lie.
