To be human is to lie, to ourselves

People lie to themselves all the time.

This isn't news. It's just that when you sit across from someone who's actively deceiving themselves—when you witness the intricate dance between what they say they want and what their actions reveal—you realize that self-deception isn't just common. It's fundamental to how we function.

The Comfortable Lie

We all do it, consistently and creatively. We lie about our relationships ("We're just going through a rough patch"), our professional capabilities ("I could do her job in my sleep"), and our everyday behaviors ("I always follow the rules" as we roll through yet another stop sign).

These lies aren't malicious. They're protective. They're the invisible scaffolding that holds up our sense of self when reality threatens to collapse it.

The lie is part of the mask we wear—not just for others, but for ourselves. It transforms us from complex, contradictory creatures into simple, coherent characters in our own life stories.

It's easier that way. Cleaner. More marketable.

Three Approaches to Self-Deception

How should a therapist—or any of us—approach the lies we encounter in ourselves and others?

1. Reflect the Contradiction

The most powerful mirror is one that simply reflects back the contradiction between stated values and observed behaviors. Not with judgment, but with curiosity.

"You say you value honesty above all else, yet I notice you've been hiding your feelings from your partner. I wonder what that's about?"

This gentle confrontation creates a moment of cognitive dissonance—that uncomfortable feeling when two contradictory beliefs exist simultaneously. And cognitive dissonance, while uncomfortable, is the seedbed of change.

2. Find the Meaning in the Lie

Every lie tells a truth about what matters to us.

If someone consistently exaggerates their professional accomplishments, perhaps the lie reveals a deep insecurity about their value in the marketplace. If they minimize their partner's concerns, perhaps they're protecting themselves from confronting the fragility of the relationship.

The lie isn't random. It's purposeful. It's serving a function.

As therapists—and as human beings seeking to understand ourselves—our job isn't to condemn the lie but to decode it. To ask: what is this deception protecting? What fear is it masking? What need is it attempting to meet?

3. Embrace the Imperfect

We lie because we're human. Because we're imperfect creatures navigating a complex world with limited emotional resources.

The third approach to self-deception is to recognize this fundamental truth: lies aren't moral failings. They're adaptive strategies that have helped us survive.

The person who downplays their mistakes at work may have grown up in an environment where failures were harshly punished. The partner who hides their true feelings may have learned early that emotional vulnerability leads to rejection.

Our lies have backstories. They have reasons. Good reasons, often—reasons worth exploring with compassion rather than condemnation.

The Choice

But what about the positioning of our authentic selves? Where does the real you—the messy, contradictory, beautiful you—fit in the narrative you've constructed?

You have two options:

You could continue to live the lie, with the best intentions. You could maintain the carefully curated version of yourself that feels safe, marketable, acceptable. The version that doesn't rock the boat, that doesn't risk rejection, that follows the prescribed path.

Or...

You can take the mask off and accept the true beauty of your flaws, emotions, and experiences. You can step into the discomfort of authenticity. You can trade the safety of self-deception for the freedom of self-awareness.

It's not an easy choice. Society often rewards conformity, simplicity, and predictability. Being fully human—acknowledging your contradictions, embracing your uncertainties, owning your mistakes—isn't always the path to immediate success.

But it's the path to something more important: integrity. Wholeness. The alignment of your inner world with your outer expression.

The Purple Cow of Authenticity

In a world where everyone is trying to fit in, authenticity is the ultimate differentiator. It's what Seth Godin might call a "purple cow"—something so remarkable that people can't help but take notice.

The most compelling brands aren't the ones that pretend to be perfect. They're the ones that acknowledge their flaws, that show their humanity, that tell the truth about who they are and what they stand for.

The same is true for people.

The most compelling humans aren't the ones who have it all figured out. They're the ones who are courageously exploring their own contradictions, who are willing to sit with the discomfort of their imperfections, who are committed to narrowing the gap between who they say they are and who they actually are.

The Bottom Line

We're all in the business of self-deception. It's part of the human condition, built into our psychological architecture.

But we're also capable of something remarkable: the ability to witness our own deceptions with compassion, to understand the fears and needs that fuel them, and to choose a different path..