This one often sounds simple. At least I used to think so. Then, clients began sitting across from me, explaining why, “in that moment,” lying felt like the right thing to do.
The reasoning is usually familiar.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“You were already stressed, I didn’t want to add more.”
And on the surface, it sounds caring. Thoughtful, even.
But it is not. It is avoidance disguised as compassion.
Dishonesty is a form of self-protection, not an expression of love. By avoiding a difficult conversation, a person prioritizes their immediate comfort over the health of the relationship. This short-term choice, made for the self, gradually and often imperceptibly chips away at trust. The result is a growing emotional distance that a couple may not recognize until it is already established.
If love is, as Thomas Aquinas wrote, “to will the good of the other,” then we have to ask ourselves, how can falsehood ever serve that good?
It cannot.
Here is a sample of what it looks like in everyday life – often small decisions made solely.
Most of us have heard the expression “work wife” or “work husband.” However, similar dynamics can develop with gym partners, coworkers, hired staff, or even someone you see regularly, like a barista. These relationships often begin innocently. The difficulty arises when conversations gradually shift toward personal details and emotional sharing.
I like to teach by example, so let us imagine a common situation.
- Making a significant financial decision without discussing it
- Signing a child up for something without checking in first
- Lending money to family without transparency
- Taking on work commitments that will affect family life, without a conversation
- Saying you are somewhere, or doing something, when you are not
These are very common and all very harmful.
They all communicate the same thing, whether intended or not: “I made this decision without you.”
Marriage cannot function that way.
We are human. There will be moments where someone avoids the truth out of fear or overwhelm. That is not what concerns me most.
The lies worth paying attention to are the ones told when there is no real threat. When honesty was available, but still avoided.
Those moments reveal something deeper.
Because lying is rarely about the situation itself. It is usually a learned pattern.
Often formed early in life, where telling the truth felt unsafe, or consequences felt too heavy. A child adapts. And what once made sense at five years old quietly follows them into adulthood.
But adulthood offers something different. Responsibility. The ability to choose differently.
From a psychological perspective, trust is built through consistent, small moments of reliability. From a spiritual perspective, truth is not optional, it is foundational.
You cannot build intimacy on partial truth. Just like you cannot feel close to someone who is not fully there. And you cannot claim to love someone while withholding reality from them.
This is where modern thinking often goes wrong. We have begun to confuse intention with virtue. If the intention feels kind, we assume the action is good.
But that is not how truth works.
As I often say in my work, we cannot rely solely on our thoughts or feelings to guide us. They shift with circumstance. In my work, I do not focus first on correcting the behaviour.
Instead, I go back to the source.
Why did this person learn that honesty was unsafe? When did they begin protecting themselves this way?
For some, simply understanding this is enough to begin changing. They realize they are no longer that child. They are no longer in that environment.
And more importantly, they begin to see that a real connection is only possible through honesty.
If you are someone who avoids the truth to “keep the peace,” I would ask you to reconsider what peace actually is.
Because over time, those small moments are what build either trust or distance.