Being a former (recovering? Am I allowed to call it that?) pathological liar, I’ve done a lot of work on speaking only what I mean and learning the real value of my words in the last few years, thanks to work with AA and The Four Agreements. (Yeah, turns out that people hold value with my words even when I didn’t… go figure.) These days there might be a completely-transparent white lie or mistake with planning here and there but, for the most part, I’m pretty good with my word in general. I don’t say things I don’t mean and, even though it sucks sometimes, I’m up front and honest about my shortcomings, opinions, and other things that might make life uncomfortable. When I say something, I say it with the intention of standing behind it, regardless of who hears/reads it and what repercussions might ensue. (For some reason, however, I tend to repeat myself a lot as if saying things once doesn’t make it real. It’s something I’ve worked for years to curb, but I’m one of those annoying people who makes sure things are stated more than once “just for the record”. So, maybe I’m still working to place exact value on words, still… ANYWAY…)

With this in mind, I find that I’m having a lot of trouble dealing with the idea of diplomacy. Here in the South, we’re very good at saying one thing to someone’s face and then saying something completely different behind their backs, which is a habit I’ve been working pretty hard to break. These days when I have something to say to someone, I say it right to them before taking it to anyone else, which often causes a lot of confusion as this seems to be outside of the norm. (Likewise, I tend to respect those who bring their problems with me to me before taking them elsewhere and am more likely to accept criticism this way than if I happen to hear it through gossip. This, too, seems to be a new concept to many people I’m around. Strange.) Additionally, if I don’t like someone, I’ve gotten better at not faking my way through a friendship like I used to. Granted, I’m not rude for the sake of being inappropriate, but I don’t go out of my way to make someone feel welcome around me if I personally can’t stand them. (Again, this is a bit of a taboo where I’m from and it’s something my mother is appalled by.)

I understand the need for diplomacy in business situations or in mixed company and I’m always striving to be as classy as possible (You can laugh at that. It’s okay.) when representing myself or my family, but I’m trying to learn the levels of diplomacy needed in intimate situations. And, for the most part, I do okay. There are always times in social situations where people say things I cannot stand by and agree with and I’ve made more than one social situation uncomfortable by vehemently opposing ignorant, idiotic, elitist views that groups I’ve been in have accepted as truths, but for the most part, I keep my mouth shut and do alright.

But this doesn’t translate so well when it comes to my personal relationships.

See, I don’t like being dishonest with my friends. I mean, that’s why we’re friends, right? So we don’t have to put on airs and fabricate realities around each other. Friends are there to let you see the reality around you and help you get through it and I believe in supporting and loving my friends unconditionally BUT I don’t believe in supporting them through everything if what they’re doing is destructive or plain idiotic. This has caused a lot of hardship in my friendships over the years but it’s something I continue to stand by. I mean, I’m not some sort of militant bitch with an agenda for purity, but if one of my friends is willingly putting him/herself in a stupid, potentially hurtful situation, I’m not cool with sitting by and letting that happen. Boneheaded and frivolous actions are one thing, but mindlessly self-deprecating are quite another. For example, if my friend wanted to call into work sick for a week so she could drive across the country to visit a wonderful man she was madly in love with then I’d be completely on board with her and would even give her a little gas money to send her on her way. But, if my friend was thinking about leaving her dream job because some asshole who had broken her heart a thousand times wanted them to “make a new start” in another city where he could chase his dream of being a stand-up comic, then I’d make sure she knew I thought it was moronic of her to consider it. Even as I write it, that seems brash, but frankly, I’d expect one of my friends to do the same. I mean, if I started drinking again and acting like a selfish bitch, I’d expect one of my friends to tell me she doesn’t support me and thinks I’m being a horrible person. I’d hope that she would give me support in recovery, but if she said she didn’t want anything to do with me while I was drinking then I’d understand. I, personally, have a hard time walking away from friends in need, so even if this friend DID leave to be with her stand-up-wannabe boyfriend, I’d be ready and waiting with my spare bedroom and some chocolate ice cream when/if things fell apart. (And, yeah, I’m still working on the “I told you so” reaction. Although it’s gotten significantly better over the years, it has a long way to go. I’ll be “healed” when I can resist the urge to ever say it, I think. Right now I’m still prone to mentioning it, although not right at the beginning.) And if, somehow, this boyfriend somehow pulled his head out of his ass and started treating her well and made her move worthwhile, then I’d eventually forgive him and support their relationship (which has actually happened, believe it or not.)

The point is, however, that my inability to withhold my opinions from my friends is something that troubles me. A lot. I’ve gotten better about not sharing my opinion unless asked for it, but I’m usually the one giving advice to friends that they should be listening to and then looking like an idiot when they do the exact opposite.

My main example of what I’m talking about is this: I had one of my best girlfriends wake up about a year-and-change ago to discover that her husband wasn’t only having his second affair, but he was stealing money from the family pot to blow up his nose, was drinking far more than she’d realized, and had lost 3 more jobs in the last two years than she’d known about. In the time that she was working on divorcing him, I was very supportive and continually told her how proud of her I was for getting out, getting a new job in a new city and doing what she needed to do to make her life free of this destructive man. I knew she was hurting from the demise of her marriage and the loss of a happiness she thought she was living, but I was supportive and encouraging, lending an ear when she needed to vent and sending her little tokens of love in the mail to let her know that she wasn’t alone. Now, she’s been living in a fabulous new house with her three kids and working a great new job for about six months, but she is getting back together with this man and I am terrified for her. She hasn’t asked me for my opinion on the matter, so I haven’t given it, and instead, I listen and nod when she tells me that “he’s doing better” and is apparently in AA and trying to piece his life back together while he lives with her and the kids on the weekends. I don’t tell her that in AA one of the beginning rules is to be sober for a year before trying to be in any sort of romantic relationship (I mean, I only made it about 7 months.) I don’t tell her that, no matter how sober or healthy this man gets, she can do better with someone she actually trusts and who won’t devastate her so badly every few years. I don’t tell her that I’m scared that she’s going to be dealing with this again in another 5 years when his penchant for cheating flares up again. I just smile and nod and tell her honestly that I wish her the best with this, because that’s the truth. But this sort of withholding makes me feel dishonest. It makes me feel like I’m not doing what I should as a friend or someone who loves her. Mostly, though, it makes me feel like there is a wall between my friend and myself where we can’t be as unabashedly explicit as we usually are together, which is something I’ve always loved about her and any of my closest friends.

And that’s where this feeling of loneliness comes in with regards to even my dearest of friends. If one of my best friends was getting into heavy drugs really badly, I’d break into her house and steal all her needles and spoons so she wouldn’t kill herself or become psychotic. If she was playing in the street with some kids and was about to get hit by a truck, I’d tackle her out of the way (and maybe the kids, too). I thought that’s what giving a shit about someone was all about; helping them when they’re not helping themselves. So why is it different when it comes to choices about love and life?

Xenocrates said “I have often regretted my speech, never my silences.” That was something my mom used to tell me when I was a babbly teenager who thought she knew everything and, for a while, I believed that. And then I read about all those people who have kept silent during truly evil happenings around the globe and I realized that Xenocrates was a coward. (Not that I’m comparing my conversations to friends with telling someone that the Holocaust is happening, though. It’s just an extreme example.)

I tell my best friend every time she calls and tells me about her most recent ailment that I think she’s making herself physically sick by not getting out and chasing her dream rightthissecond, but I fear that this drives a wedge between us because she may think I’m disappointed, when really, I’m just hopeful and confident in the potential her life holds. Even still, I worry I should back off, listen calmly and give my diplomatic, censored opinion only when asked for it. And I’m beginning to feel that, no matter how close I am to anyone, that that’s how I should live my entire life.

Still though, that doesn’t seem right. Even if my opinions/predictions/fears are completely and utterly wrong, I still feel it’s wrong to keep them completely to myself all the time in the name of “decency” and “manners”. This might make me a horrible person, but it’s the one embarrassing characteristic of mine that I think I’ll choose to stand behind.