I believe in honesty.
Honesty sounds like an easy answer, but I have had a long history with truth-telling. As a kid, you learn the consequences of lying quickly. However, I grew up mostly in solitary with little interaction from common outlets such as friends and family. Eventually, I did find friends, yet always felt left behind. I compensated with over-exaggerated stories and things that I wanted to be eventually. I knew I could get away with these grand stories since nobody bothered to question me.
It was not until I found people who really cared about what I had to say. I experienced people who had been genuinely hurt by over-exaggerated and fabricated lies. Finally, I knew what it was like to be the person they told these stories about. In my constant pursuit to be the person I wanted to be, I realized that my disillusioned stories meant nothing yet had big consequences in trust.
After hurting someone, I felt my only response was to talk to each person and explain that I had lied. Every conversation on my part was an anxious heat in my chest met with an almost absurd and comical response. Even when I was forgiven, I felt it was not good enough. I understood the consequences of lying and now know why many people are adamant to admit when they lie. It was painful, but now I am the most forthright I can be.
Conversation after conversation coincided with the rise of fake news. As President Trump spewed line after line of his beliefs and policies, people had been genuinely worried for the well-being of themselves and their families. This was only made worse with fake news blurring the lines of what was over-exaggeration, fact, or fabricated.
I always reasoned that as long as I never made outright lies it was ok. But, the more of a stretch a story is, the muddier the conversation can become from person to person. I have come to the conclusion that either lie is equally damaging, especially with the constant barrage of fast-paced media and polarizing politics.