by Jo Robertson
Lady Macbeth speaks this line from Shakespeare’s play of betrayal and murder. Macbeth has killed King Duncan and his wife admonishes him to put on the face of innocence as he din
es among the other Thanes of Scotland. She says he cannot reveal the blackness of his heart.
“False face must hide what the false heart doth know.”
I’ve bee
n thinking about false faces and false hearts lately. About the sense of betrayal a person can feel when she’s been lied to or deceived by someone – a friend, a child, a partner. But those are the big lies, right?
Lady Macbeth speaks this line from Shakespeare’s play of betrayal and murder. Macbeth has killed King Duncan and his wife admonishes him to put on the face of innocence as he din
es among the other Thanes of Scotland. She says he cannot reveal the blackness of his heart.“False face must hide what the false heart doth know.”
I’ve bee
n thinking about false faces and false hearts lately. About the sense of betrayal a person can feel when she’s been lied to or deceived by someone – a friend, a child, a partner. But those are the big lies, right? The toxic ones that do permanent damage.
What about the so-called little white lies? We all tell those, right?
My mom used to point to an unusually large woman and ask, “Jo, am I as fat as that lady?”
She was a character, my mother. She wasn’t begging for a compliment; she really wanted to know if others saw her as heavy as the woman in front of us at the commissary pushing a double-wide cart down the aisle and wearing a god-awful muu-muu.
“Uh, no, Mom, you carry your weight really well.”
This was true. My mother was one of those women who could weigh an extra 30 or 40 pounds and look “handsome” rather than overweight.
“Besides that, Mom, we don’t use the “F” word in our house.”
Her eyes would widen and then she’d laugh. I’m not sure my mother actually knew what the real “F” word was.
The thing is, I would've lied flat out to my mom if it made her feel better. Why not? She was my mother and although she had her flaws, I loved her dearly.
When my first child was born, he lay in the nursery bassinettes next to . . . okay, I have to say it . . . the ugliest baby I've ever seen. I realize some people think all babies are cute, but uh, no, they're not.
What about the so-called little white lies? We all tell those, right?
My mom used to point to an unusually large woman and ask, “Jo, am I as fat as that lady?”
She was a character, my mother. She wasn’t begging for a compliment; she really wanted to know if others saw her as heavy as the woman in front of us at the commissary pushing a double-wide cart down the aisle and wearing a god-awful muu-muu.
“Uh, no, Mom, you carry your weight really well.”
This was true. My mother was one of those women who could weigh an extra 30 or 40 pounds and look “handsome” rather than overweight.
“Besides that, Mom, we don’t use the “F” word in our house.”
Her eyes would widen and then she’d laugh. I’m not sure my mother actually knew what the real “F” word was.
The thing is, I would've lied flat out to my mom if it made her feel better. Why not? She was my mother and although she had her flaws, I loved her dearly.
When my first child was born, he lay in the nursery bassinettes next to . . . okay, I have to say it . . . the ugliest baby I've ever seen. I realize some people think all babies are cute, but uh, no, they're not.
Now, granted, mine looked like he'd been in a tussel with the forceps. But this baby? He looked like a big bruiser of a street fighter. Ironically, his mother, watching him through the glass, was extraordinarily striking.
"Isn't he beautiful?" she cooed.
Of course, I lied.
Some truths just cannot be said aloud.
There are other kinds of lies, of course, some toxic, some merely annoying. Political lies. Hmmm, most of us are pretty cynical about the promises of politicians before they get elected, but are those really lies? Or just promises they can't make good on?
Now here’s the thing.
Do you lie to your friend who asks you if the dress she’s contemplating makes her look frumpy?
Do you teach your children it’s never okay to tell an untruth? Do you really believe that? Or make them cross their fingers behind their backs to negate the lie?
When is it “okay” to lie and when is it crossing a line to betrayal?
Have you ever been lied to in a way that hurt you deeply?
Would you rather be told a harmless lie than an unpleasant truth?
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