As a kid, I liked to see what would happen if I gave things besides the expected answer to questions, so I would lie to find out.
I try to give answers that will please people, but sometimes if I’m not thinking about it I don’t realize when someone would take something personally (for example, if asked if an item of clothing somehow looked bad on someone and they asked for my opinion, I might be honest, because in my mind, I’m saying the clothing is unflattering, not that the person is fat or ugly or anything). Also when not directly asked, if I don’t have something nice to say, I just don’t say anything.
When I was in school I would sometimes lie about having finished my homework, intending on doing it later but not wanting my parents to make me do it before doing something else, and when I was in college there was someone who kept wanting me to attend a church thing with them and I would lie that I had homework to do when I really just didn’t have the energy to do anything social that evening. I’ll lie that everything is fine when I just don’t want to talk right then (I learned in middle school that when my mom asked how my day was when I got home from school, any answer besides “fine” would immediately be followed by “What was so (insert adjective) about it?” and what I wanted to do was be alone and not have to talk to anyone, so that became my default answer).
Those are really the only lies I’ve deliberately told since I was ten or so. Can’t bring myself to lie about “everything will be okay” or assuring people that things will work out for the best, because to me, that’s a guarantee that can be hurtful and/or have other unintended consequences if it’s wrong. Won’t make promises I know I can’t keep. Don’t want to aid in setting people’s expectations higher than I can meet, they do that well enough without me trying to make myself look good. Basically, I hate taking risks, and doing so by lying is no exception.
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Yet in my new wildness and freedom I almost welcome the bitterness of alienage. For although nepenthe has calmed me, I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.
-H. P. Lovecraft, "The Outsider"