When it comes down to it, I’m an honest person. However, about a month ago, I realized that I had never learned the value of telling the truth. I went along with honesty for the most part, but that was just because I knew I was supposed to. Lying about small things had become second nature to me, so I started an experiment.

On Monday, May 16, I began my three weeks of complete honesty. I knew that this would be a challenge, but I wasn’t expecting to change much. I believed that I’d come out with some new, artificial appreciation for the truth. However, these past few weeks have been a shockingly influential time in my life.

I set some strict rules for myself. I had to tell the whole truth and answer all questions. Lying and lying by omission weren’t allowed. However, I could lie on behalf of a dishonest friend. I didn’t have to express everything I was thinking, though I did a few times (just for fun).

Probably one of the most common and, admittedly, annoying experiences was the “fun party trick." This happened multiple times a week, and started a few minor arguments. People would ask, “How do you really feel about [insert name here].” This one was especially fun when they asked about someone within earshot or, even better, themselves. Then there were the outrageous and inappropriate asks, which also often included those around me. Last, there were the excessively personal questions, which were the worst. Some came from people that I barely even knew. Thankfully, these queries were kept to a minimum.

I learned three main things in these three weeks: how to express my discontent, how much honesty is valued by those around me, and how freeing it is to tell the truth.

The first was a big issue for me. I usually tend to hide my emotions in order to avoid confrontation or undesirable situations, but, all of a sudden, I had to acknowledge them. This meant a lot of angry texts, long conversations, and checks of what actually matters. Having to deal with my issues definitely put them in perspective. I didn’t have to be upset about so many things because they weren’t actually important to me. I could quickly and easily deal with what I cared about.

Discovering the real value of honesty was also very important. Honesty didn’t mean much to me, so I figured that it wouldn’t to others either. On the first day, I noticed that my openness made those around me open. After hearing my real opinions, I could ask people for theirs, and they told me the truth. While this might seem like common sense, it wasn’t something I had ever thought about. Throughout the weeks, I was reminded over and over again that my candor was noticed, and actually appreciated.

As clichéd as it may sound, my sincerity made me feel liberated. Instead of being bogged down by all the dishonesty, I didn’t have to worry about what I was going to tell people and what I was going to hold back. Instead, I could focus on living virtuously, because, if I didn’t, people would find out.

As an avid white-liar, the past twenty-one days have been a test. Having to confess where I actually was, who I was actually with, and what I was actually doing was tough enough. However, the interrogation that came with it was grueling. Even though some people took advantage of my situation, I learned far more than I ever thought I would. The conversations I’ve had were more meaningful, and I’ve felt more connected with those around me. In a time of year that's so hectic and emotional for my peers and me, I’m truly grateful that I had the opportunity to learn this lesson. I know that I probably won’t be this honest again, but I also know that telling the truth will only benefit me and those around me as time goes on.