Self-Deception: I Spent Years Detecting Lies in Others While Telling Them to Myself
Originally published on April 23, 2018, lightly revised May 2026.
I am a Liar
Eventually the honest reality of my life slapped me in the face and shouted, "Here I am, there's nowhere to run now!" All the lies I was unknowingly telling myself and others surfaced as curiosity about the part I played in each of my tragedies — I could have brushed them off, but I decided to dive deeper into them instead.
I’d been lying by telling myself and others that I’m a one hundred percent honest person, subtly insinuating that I’d only been a victim who never lies, but who is constantly duped and lied to (and failing to see the dramatic parts I played in many situations.) I’d lied by not recognizing my own motives in relationships, only seeing how I was being taken advantage of by friends and lovers. I’d lied about my abilities and overall happiness to keep up the façade that I had my shit together.
My journey through self-deception started in early 2018 with the thought that I was magically healed from five years in an emotionally abusive relationship in Minnesota just because I left, and ignoring the reality of what still festered within. Then came the thought that I was ready to handle the confusing beginning stages of falling for a guy I connected with right when I moved back to Nebraska. Plus convincing myself I wanted to use my body language training to coach sales and business people, then landing a bunch of overwhelming networking coffee dates where I was unknowingly lying to myself and people about who I am and my goals.
From all of this sparked a mind-bending mental breakdown in my car on the way home from one of those coffee dates, followed by several days of numbing depression and never-ending tears that left me asking myself: What the hell is wrong with you?
Looking back, I realize my mind and body were sending me thunderous warnings all along, but I was never one to listen to myself in that way — I was too damn worried about everyone else.
As I share my stories, I have no aim to defend my decisions and patterns in all this — my goal is to grow from them. If you start to judge me as a liar, or think I'm a terrible person, just remember: your judgments mostly have to do with you, not the people you’re judging.
What will you see in me that you don’t care to see in yourself? How uncomfortable it will be to realize, too, that you may be as much of a liar as I am, if not more. We are all liars in one way or another, but to varying degrees.
If you’re not actively exaggerating and lying to the strangers you meet or the people you know, the lies you tell yourself will likely make up for that. It’s been found that the average person lies at least once, but usually two or three times in a ten minute conversation, and we are lied to around two hundred times per day. That is a lot of deception. It makes me wonder how many total lies we’re telling and receiving when self-deception is factored in.
I hope this blog will help more people to expose their own crooked ways and strive to be more candid with themselves and others.
I’m working to stop deceiving myself as I uncover all the lies I’ve been telling myself and others for the last thirty-some years. And what a strange realization to come to. Only a few years ago I was obsessed with human lie detection, preaching to the whole world about honesty — I considered it one of my top five values — yet, I’ve been dishonest, and I lie to myself the most.
If we’re lying to ourselves, how honest can we really be with others? I hope to say I’m simply a candid gal someday, but for now I’m still a crook here to tell you many of the ways I've deceived. These stories are mine, but they might feel familiar.
Why Honesty?
“Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.”
Our unexpressed and unaddressed emotions, our innermost thoughts and desires, may be masked or come out in ugly ways such as: drinking too much, and too often, to try numbing or forgetting our pain; harming strangers and loved ones with raging fists, uncomfortable silence, or irreversible words, to avoid being vulnerable and expressing our anguish; injecting our veins and filling our lungs with drugs to escape a harsh reality we’re terrified of facing; using people and relationships to move our focus to others and away from ourselves because damn, it can be hard to love and care for yourself, especially if you’ve never felt worth loving and caring for.
One of the ways we harm ourselves most is by not asking deep questions and sitting with the real answers: by not knowing our true selves. When you start digging honestly, you’ll find things you don’t like. That’s the point.
When I first began this journey years ago, I started asking myself at least one introspective question per day, along with journaling, meditating, attending Codependents Anonymous meetings and working the CoDA Twelve Steps. I found the Fourth Step, which involves deep shadow work by making a searching and fearless moral inventory of yourself, extremely helpful. I was afraid of what I’d find and avoided some of the questions at first, but I found that the most uncomfortable questions were the most important ones to answer.
In one of my journal entries I talked about being frustrated that I quit drinking, networking, and talking to the new love interest all in the same week. I began just sitting with myself, but all I wanted to do was quit thinking and writing about my pain, drink a bunch of beer and whiskey, and care for anyone but myself because that’s what I was used to and it seemed so much easier to keep it that way.
I had to accept that my life desperately needed to change direction and slowly stopped getting in my own way. It’s been a long, miserable road already. Worth it, but miserable.
I’ve since written several notebooks worth of my thoughts, feelings, life experiences, and lies on paper. I’ve cried and bitterly called myself names, furiously punched my bed and the air, screamed inside my car and into pillows, and isolated from friends and family at times out of feeling overwhelming waves of guilt or shame.
I’ve gotten so goddamn mad at myself in the moment, but following my rage and sadness always comes an incredible sense of relief. I started accepting my feelings and no longer felt the need to hold myself back. My inner critic began to soften.
This work is never easy, it just gets easier. It is also never-ending; there isn’t one day where you just wake up and feel you’re done growing as a person. I’m still figuring out who I am, and part of that process is telling candid stories of my crooked life…
Do you relate?
Care to share?
Comment below and let the truth set you free.
